


Steven G. Rogers: Sugar Daddy

by marykathryn30



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Artist Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, Really it's just the characters, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Slow Burn, Smut, Sugar Daddy, at all, mentions of epilepsy, rich Steve Rogers, why tf not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 99,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14555109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marykathryn30/pseuds/marykathryn30
Summary: "Add that to your resume." Bucky kicked his feet onto the mahogany desk after Steve repeatedly asked him not to. "Steve Rogers- sugar daddy.""It's not like that!""You buy her stuff, right?""I mean, yeah.""Without her asking.""It's just a nice thing to do!""And you two have sex.""A fact I'm really regretting telling you.""Face it, Rogers." Sam chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding towards Bucky. "Barnes is right. You got yourself a sugar baby."





	1. Hot, Sticky Sweet

_Why did East coast artists insist on painting so many tits? Jesus, there were tits everywhere in this gallery, all shapes and sizes and nipple-erectedness._

Evie was wandering around the show, two or three flutes of champagne deep because, hell, it was _free,_ and wondered where Natasha had disappeared to. Probably back to the apartment. Probably with a drunk, horny Clint Barton in tow.

She sighed and gratefully accepted another glass of bubbly from a passing waiter, handing him her empty glass with a smile before knocking half the new glass back in one swallow. Her shoes were making her feet ache, heel far to tall and skinny to be practical, and she could feel the blisters forming on her pinkie toes. Her dress, though adorable, had to be worn with a racerback bra and the straps were digging into her shoulders, forcing her to stand up straighter than what was comfortable, and she wished she’d worn spandex under the twirl of her skirt; her thighs were sticky and starting to chafe, adding to her overall feeling of discomfort.

Not to mention, if Nat really left, she knew no one at this party and was just staring at tasteless art and steadily getting drunk. This whole thing had been Natasha’s idea in the first place, claiming her roommates needed more culture in their lives and apparently the dive bar down the road from campus _didn’t count as culture_ , so she’d dragged Clint and Evie to _downtown,_ made them _dress up_ , and now was nowhere to be found.

Evie grumbled and made her way towards the sitting area in the middle of one of the gallery rooms, crossing her legs and, in a manner that could only be described as entirely unladylike, drained the rest of her glass in a single swallow. She glanced around the room before reaching down to slip her shoes off her feet; the heels clattered loudly to the floor but she couldn’t be bothered to give a damn, massaging her hands into her aching arches and suppressing a moan at the sweet, sweet relief. She pulled her phone out of her clutch and glanced at the screen, rolling her hazel eyes at Clint’s unopened texts.

**Purple Nurple:**

**11:30 pm:** _Evieee Nat n I left to bone. The buses r still running if u gotta get home. Or ride some art hunk._

 **11:32 pm:** _Nat says art guys have big dicks_

 **11:33 pm:** _Get you a big paintbrush dick_

 

**Me:**

**12:02 am:** _Makes sense why you’re not an art student, short stuff. Gonna grab an Uber home. Too many drunk freshman on the bus._

She opened her banking app and frowned at the sad 1.37 sitting lonely in her checking account. Maybe the bus would have to do. Huffing, she snagged her shoes from the floor and made her way to the door, hoping no one would judge her for walking, well, stumbling, to the bus stop barefoot. She was so distracted scrolling through her bank transactions and wondering where her paycheck had gone that she didn’t even notice the brick wall of a human she was about to walk straight into.

Which, of course, she did, barely catching herself as she stumbled backwards, her shoes and phone dropping to the ground as the stranger reached out to steady her, big, warm hands clasping around her shoulders.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” A deep, rich voice timbered, sounding sweet and genuinely concerned. “I wasn’t even looking.”

“I wasn’t either,” Evie laughed, reaching down to grab her things. “Sorry for, uh, sorry for-,” She chose that moment to look up, every intelligent and witty thought flying from her head as she took in the man above her.

He was fucking beautiful. There was no other way to put it. His eyes were shockingly blue, wide and worried, and a smooth wave of dark, honey hair- slicked back and smooth- matched a neatly trimmed and controlled beard sitting along his obscene jawline, all harsh angles and cut so defined it made Evie’s mouth water. Pink, rosy lips sat tucked above his cute chin, his upper lip hidden a little with the beard, his lower lip pouty and practically begging to be kissed. As Evie stared, the man tugged said lip into his mouth, a row of white, perfectly straight teeth digging into the skin until it turned white. Fuck.

Evie’s eyes travelled the line of his beard down to the tendons and veins peeking out of her from miles of golden skin; a little mole dotted the side of his neck and Evie wanted to kiss it. His shoulders fanned out from there, wide and round and every bit as obnoxiously perfect as his teeth. Evie could see the lines of muscles shifting under his dark blue dress shirt as he reached a large hand out to help her up.

How were his hands even hot, his palm big and warm, fingers thin and long, nails perfectly trimmed and clean. An expensive looking watch sat ticking on his right wrist, and Evie followed the line of his arm to his equally muscled chest, the buttons of his shirt straining and looking ready to pop, to quit their job and let all his muscles and bulk spill out in the middle of this fancy event. His belt, an expensive looking black leather, seemed to be having just as much trouble fitting around his skinny waist, homemade holes punched into the leather so this monster of a man could finally slide the belt tight around his hips.

His pants left just a little to the imagination, black slacks that hugged the bubble curve of his ass- Evie bet she could bounce a quarter off it- loosening down to a pair of matte black dress shoes. Holy fuck this guy was hot.

And he was still offering his hand. Shit.

Evie took it, amazed at the contrast of his soft skin and rough calluses, and stood, straightening her dress a little and giving the man a shy smile.

“Is your phone okay?” he asked, smiling sweetly, his beautiful eyes crinkling adorable at the corners.

She started to laugh until she looked down, face falling at the thin, spider web-like cracks starting at the upper left corner of the phone and spreading all the way down. Her screen was fucked, so fucked, and she felt her eyes widen the longer she stared at it.

Hot Stranger’s breath caught a little and he huffed out a shocked, disbelieving laugh before covering his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered dramatically, looking between the shattered phone and Evie’s face. “I- can I make it up to you? Let me buy you a drink?”

“A drink? Here?”

He smiled a little. Evie really liked the way his eyes scrunched together in the corners.

“No, definitely not here. There’s a bar down the road, if you’d have my company.”

Evie opened her mouth to refuse, make up an excuse about her roommates needing her home because getting a drink with a random stranger, no matter how hot, probably wasn’t a good idea, but Clint’s text lingered in her head.

_Get yourself a paintbrush dick._

“A drink sounds really nice, actually.”

Evie wasn’t expecting Hot Stranger to accept a black suit jacket from a flustered waiter- “ _A- anything else I can do for you, Mr.-Mr. Rogers?”-_  as they walked out, nor did she expect him to immediately drop it on her shoulders once they walked out to the chilly New York air. Or for him to sweep her shoes and carry them for her down the street, asking every couple of steps if her feet were alright.

“Aw, you don’t have to do that,” Evie protested, curling her hands around the lapels anyway and blushing a little at the fond look her strange companion sent her way. His jacket smelled like mint and pine needles, a clean, manly scent that sent Evie’s head spinning. Was there anything unattractive about this guy? “I’m Evie, by the way.”

“I’m Steve.” Another soft smile. “And I’m sorry I broke your phone.”

“You didn’t break my phone,” Evie giggled, shaking her head. “I dropped it after running into you like an idiot.”

“I should’ve been more careful. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Neither was I, Steve.”

“But-,”

“Let’s blame the fancy art people’s free booze,” Evie interrupted before Steve could blame himself even more. “How dare they offer such a luxury so close to college students.”

Steve chuckled, a low, throaty noise that warmed Evie from the inside out. Or maybe that was the champagne, bubbling in her stomach and leeching alcohol into her veins

He placed Evie’s heels on the ground, taking her hand and helping her stand into them; she stumbled a little, giggling and swaying a little, grabbing Steve’s hand to keep from falling over. He held the door open for her, too, a warm hand on the small of her back as he guided her through a scatter of low lit tables to the bar. What a gentleman. He even went as far as scooting her stool out for her, hands hovering over her waist as she slid onto the stool, elbows on the bar as he sat next to her.

“What?” Evie asked, swinging her hair off her shoulder and leaning a little more onto the bar, eyes bright, the apples of her cheeks warm and pink. She was feeling pleasantly tipsy, working her way towards a good drunk. Steve was just smiling at her, turned in his stool to face her, his blue eyes wrinkled at the corners.

“Are you alright to have another drink?” he asked, eyes roaming her face with a touch of concern.

She nodded hurriedly, hair falling forward of her shoulders again. “I’m goooooood,” she sang, only slurring her words a little. Steve sighed.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, waving down the bartender. “I’ll buy you a drink, but you can only drink it after you’ve had some water. Deal?”

Evie groaned, feeling every bit like a little kid waiting for dessert, bringing another deep chuckle from Steve’s mouth.

“Fine, _dad,”_ she grumbled, unaware of the way Steve’s jaw snapped shut, his square jaw flexing beneath his beard, his pupils expanding to darken the blue around them. She turned her attention to the bartender, ordering a vodka lemonade and, begrudgingly, a glass of ice water. Steve cleared his throat and asked for some fancy beer Evie had never heard of, sliding the man a shiny black credit card.

“So,” he said, reaching for a cup of peanuts sitting on the bar and tossing a few into his mouth. Evie watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, transfixed. “Do you usually go to the gallery?”

Evie shook her head, accepting her drink from the bartender with a grateful smile. Steve arched an eyebrow at her before she pouted, setting the alcohol down and glaring at him over the rim of her water glass as she slowly drank from it.

“My roommate thinks I need more culture.” She rolled her eyes. “So she dragged me and her boyfriend out. What drew you-,” she paused and tapped her finger against the round bulge of his bicep. “To the show, Mr. Steve?”

Steve smiled warmly, lifting his dark beer to his lips and taking a drink. His tongue swiped across the foam on his upper lip, pink and wet, and he set his beer back down on its napkin before answering.

“I was actually one of the artists.”

“No fucking way,” Evie blurted, voice a little too loud in the classy bar. Steve snorted a laugh into his glass.

“Yes, fucking way,” he said, shoulders still shaking a little with laughter. “My exhibit was the one in the back.”

“That was yours?” Evie asked, putting aside her mostly empty water and taking a long pull of her vodka lemonade. “The charcoals?”

Steve nodded, cheeks turning pink as Evie started gushing over what she’d seen.

“Those were amazing, Steve. Natasha and I spent a half hour in there just staring at them. You do really amazing work.”

“Well, thank you.” Steve finished the rest of his beer and signaled for another. Evie smiled and downed the rest of her drink in several big swallows; the vodka burned a little on the way down, the lemonade trying its best to mask the bitterness

“Wow, wow, okay. Slow down there, tiger.” He slid her glass away and asked the bartender for another water.

“You’re no fun.” Evie pouted, jutting her lower lip out and resting her chin on her palm, elbow on the table.

“And you, Ms. Evie, are drunk.” Steve smiled and tapped his index finger against the tip of her nose; she wrinkled it and giggled, leaning forward a little to get further into Steve’s space.

“Shhh. I’m just buzzed.”

“Uh-huh. Say the alphabet backwards.” Steve glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, grinning stupidly and trying to hide his smile in a fresh beer.

“Bitch, I can’t even do that sober.”

Steve laughed loudly and slopped some of his beer onto the bar.

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“You liked it, don’t lie.” Evie wiggled her eyebrows at him, biting her lip and tilting her chin down in a lame attempt at being sexy.

“Oh, you caught me.” Steve rolled his eyes and glanced at the fancy watch sitting on his thick wrist. “Getting insulted by beautiful women really gets my rocks off.”

“I knew it,” Evie stage whispered, reaching forward to poke at the bulge of Steve’s truly obnoxious pectoral muscle. It was warm and stiff under her touch. “Jesus. How much time do you spend in the gym, Stevie? Must be days with guns like these.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, a bright smile curling his lips.

“My friends claim I’m a workaholic gym rat. I’m either in the office or at the gym, honestly.”

“What do you do? Like, at work. What’s, ugh. What’s your job?” Evie took a deep breath and shook her head a little, trying to not let the alcohol buzzing her senses get in the way of their conversation.

Steve smiled sweetly.

“I'm, um, the main artist for Shield Comics. My friend Peggy and I own the company together. Got the corner office and a desk with my name on it and everything.”

“You- wait. You _run_ a part of a company?”

Steve nodded like it wasn’t a big deal.

“My friend Peggy and I started Shield out of our dorm room back in the day. We wanted to start an environmentally friendly comic company that could appeal to a variety of people from a variety of social classes. Pegs handles most of the strategy and technological side- I just make everything look pretty, help with story lines, make the art, make it store ready.”

Evie’s mouth was hanging open.

“What?” Steve laughed, taking another sip of his beer.

“You say that like owning your company isn’t a big deal.”

He shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always wanted. Got a business degree from Harvard, went to MIT a year later to get the computer design and development down, and Peggy and I went from there.”

“Wait, so you’ve gone to grad school?”

Steve nodded.

“ _How old are you?”_

He cleared his throat before answering, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“I’m thirty six,” he said softly, blushing just a little. “Turning thirty seven in July.”

“Holy- no you’re not.”

“Yes I am?”

“Oh, my God.” Evie groaned and dropped her face into her hands, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. “Natasha is going to kill me. Straight up murder me.”

“Evie, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Steve gently tugged at her hands, his long fingers easily wrapping around her wrist so much so that his fingers overlapped.

“You’re thirty six.”

“Yes, we just established that.”

“You’re thirty six and you own your own company and you’re here. With me. In a bar. Buying me a drink. After an art gallery _you had an exhibit in.”_

“Yes. I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“Steve.” Evie tugged her hands out of his grasp and looked at him hard, resting her hands on her knees and turning her entire body towards him to emphasize what she was about to say.

“I’m twenty two. I work part time in a slimy bar down the road from NYU. Where I go to college. As a student. I don’t even have my undergrad and you’ve got two degrees and your own fucking company.”

The color that had been rising in Steve’s face suddenly drained.

“You- you’re fourteen years older than me and all I’ve been thinking about is how bad I want you to fuck me. Oh, my God. Oh. My. God.” Her stomach clenched, pushing the uncomfortable amounts of booze she’d ingested closer to her throat; she clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wetting as she fought back a gag.

“Evie? Are you going to be sick?”

She didn’t answer, just hopped off her stool and ran in the direction she hoped the bathroom was; she clattered through the door and dropped to her knees in the first grimy stall, her stomach instantly spewing every ounce of liquid she’d ingested back out with a fury. Her throat burned, her eyes stinging and hot as her body lurched again, the wet noise of puke slapping against the toilet. She didn’t even notice Steve had followed her until big, warm hands were pulling her hair away from her face and a cold paper towel was dripping down the back of her neck.

“Easy,” he said softly, kneeling next to her and holding her hair back as she retched again. “Deep breaths, honey. There ya’ go, that’s it. Relax, you’re alright. Just relax and breathe.”

She groaned and hung her head, harsh breaths rattling her chest as her stomach settled. She tried to talk, give Steve some sort of reassurance that it was the alcohol making her sick, not his age, but he just shushed her, wiping his thumb across her sweaty forehead and smiling softly. His eyes did that adorable crinkle again and Evie practically melted.

“I know I said I wasn’t going to take you home,” he said slowly, eyebrows creasing in the middle as he searched her face. “But I want to make sure you’re okay, and I don’t fully trust your, erm, occupied roommates to do that. Would you be alright with coming home with a thirty six year old man with two degrees and his own company if he promises not to make a move on you?”

Evie nodded and let him help her off the floor; he wrapped a thick arm around her waist and supported most of her weight as they waded back through the bar to head outside. The cold New York air helped cool the sweat on Evie’s face and she sighed in relief.

“I’m parked right down here,” Steve said, settling his jacket back over her shoulders, his breath a puff of smoke between them.

“This is your _car_?” Evie blurted when they stumbled up to a shiny black sports car, sleek and thin and aggressive looking. It was the kind of car Clint drooled to Nat over, ranting about gas mileage and a six cylinder engine that hit 90 miles an hour in 30 seconds. Steve nodded and held the passengers door open for her, making sure her seat belt was buckled before making his way to the drivers side.

“A gift to myself when I turned 35,” he said, pressing his index finger to a circular button by the wheel. The car purred to life around them, each button glowing with a ring of white light, the tiny screen lighting up the dash with some foreign logo Evie didn’t recognize; the screen transitioned to a dark GPS of the city, different roads colored coded based on traffic levels. Everything on the inside was just as sleek as the outside, the seats a smooth black leather, dark stained wood adorning the middle console and sections of each door. Evie watched in awe as Steve shifted the car into drive, the engine almost silent but powerfully pushing them forward. The gauges on the dash lit up white, the numbers winking against a smooth black background, thin white needles inching higher and higher.

“This- now I know why my roommate loves cars like this so much.”

Steve laughed and slid his big hands up and down the steering wheel appreciatively.

“It’s definitely been one of my better investments,” he said, pressing a button on the inside of the steering wheel, next to the same unfamiliar logo the screen had shown earlier. Soft music started purring from what Evie assumed was surround sound speakers- _in a car-_ , something smooth and jazzy that played with the bass thrumming around them.

“That implies you’ve made bad investments.”

“Oh, I have.” Steve laughed again, this time without humor. “I happen to be an expert in making poor hiring choices. Just a couple months ago, I believed some punks’ sob story about being broke and trying to make his way through college. I thought I could help him, ya know? I knew what it felt like to struggle with college expenses. So I hired him. Next thing you know, Peggy and I start losing money, and our rival company is suddenly releasing prototypes that look a hell of a lot like ours, months before our scheduled release dates.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Was he, like, a spy?”

Steve’s mouth twisted into an unhappy smirk.

“Basically. Was saving everything he saw and just reporting back to Hydra. The other company,” he clarified, seeing Evie’s confusion. “And I’d sort of adopted him as a temporary intern. He was in and out of my office constantly. I was showing him all sorts of new ideas and blueprints, wanted to keep him interested in the company. We don’t have a ton of people on staff that deal with creating, and he seemed creative enough to fit the bill.”

“You could sue him for that, right? I mean,” Evie continued, fighting the alcohol in her blood to string together an intelligent sentence. Steve was sharing personal information about his company. The least she could do was offer some advice. “Wouldn’t that go against some sort of copyright?”

Steve shook his head, running his fingers through his hair as they rolled up to a red light.

“Technically, no. He made sure all the information he was selling was just stuff off the drawing board. We hadn’t had a chance to copyright any of it.”

Evie frowned and laid her hand on his forearm.

“I’m sorry, Steve. That seriously blows. So he just gets away with it?”

“I mean, we terminated him and he’s on the company’s blacklist.” Steve snorted. “If he even comes to the lobby, he’ll be escorted out. But other than that, we can’t legally do anything.”

“But _illegally_ -,”

“Oh, my god. No,” Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“If you can afford this car, you can afford an assassin. I probably know a guy. My roommate Natash is Russian and I’m pretty positive she’s part of the mob.”

“Evie, noo.”

“Evie, _yes._ ” She pulled out her phone to text Nat. “I’ll ask right now.”

**To Natasha Jackin-off**

**3:57 am:** _my frieb Steve needs a sassin. Can you hook him up?_

“Done and done,” she said, grinning at Steve as he pulled into a parking lot. He didn’t immediately pull into a spot, confusing his passenger, but instead drove to the front of the building, rolling up under the arched entryway and unclipping his seatbelt. Evie’s mouth fell open as a man in a pressed black suit hurried to Steve’s side of the car, opening the door with a pleasant, “Nice to see you again, Mr. Rogers.”

Steve smiled politely and thanked him, leaning back down into the car and raising an eyebrow at Evie.

“You can get out now,” he teased.

“I just- you didn’t- okay.” Evie cleared her throat and, not at all gracefully, popped open the door and stepped out. The hotel (?) employee flushed red.

“I’m so sorry!” He hurried to Evie’s side of the car and helped her out of the low riding car. “Mr. Rogers doesn’t usually bring guests. I- I just assumed-,”

“It’s alright,” Steve said, smiling and wrapping his thick arm around Evie’s waist. “I keep telling you that you don’t have to open the door for me. And that it’s Steve.”

“Opening the door is in my job description.” The kid shut Evie’s door and made his way back around the car. “Besides, I just learned how to open it a couple weeks ago. What else am I going to brag to the cleaning ladies about?”

Steve laughed loudly and tossed the kid a keyless FOB, leading Evie towards the doors.

“Have a good night, Peter!” he called.

“You, too, Mr- I mean, Steve!”

If Evie thought the watch and the car and the perfectly tailored clothes were extravagant, it was nothing like the building they were talking into.

Spinning hardwood doors led into the entryway, shiny and spotless; the floors were white marble, streaks of glittering black shimmering up at the two as they made their way through the lobby. There was a long oak front desk where two employees, both dressed in the same suits as the kid from outside, stood, sorting through papers and clicking through expensive looking computers. There was a few brown leather chairs dotted along a grey and white rug across from the desk, small clear tables with stocky lamps separating them. A shimmery crystal chandelier sparkled above their heads, the light splitting off tiny half moon rainbows onto different spots on the floor.

Steve led Evie through the lobby to the dark doors of the elevator, sending a polite smile to the staff and humming whatever wordless song was circling through the room. The elevators dinged open and Evie followed Steve in, her jaw dropping at the walls of glass that made up the small area.

“I nearly shit myself when I moved in,” Steve said, turning to the panel of buttons on the only wooden part of the elevator and inserting a key into the splot below the number 25. “No one told me the elevators were glass. I thought I was going to break one trying to move my couch in.”

“That seems like a very valid concern.” Evie watched the lobby shrink below them, the elevator rising and passing different floors, one after another, each floor decked out with the same professional, expensive sitting area as the entry.

“Here we are,” Steve said, sliding his key out of it’s slot and motioning Evie out of the elevator. A long horizontal hallway greeted her, not unlike that of a hotel, except there was only one door. Her heels clicked against the shiny hardwoods as Steve led her to the door, a soft off-white that stood out against the nazy walls. A shiny golden P hung below the peephole.

Steve unlocked the door and, before Evie could even register what the apartment/hotel room thing looked like, she was blinded by a blur of shaggy white and brown fur.

“Doger! Hey, boy, _down._ He doesn’t bite, I promise. He just- he likes new people. _Doger, sit.”_

The dog seemed entirely happy ignoring his owner, lifting his front paws to Evie’s chest and lapping cheerfully at her face. She was vaguely aware of another dog swirling around her ankles, sniffing at her shoes before licking her shin, but Doger was taking up most of her attention.

“I’m so sorry.” Steve’s face was flushed red with embarrassment as he tugged Doger down, herding the fluffy ball of excitement into the apartment with another apology. “I didn’t even think about it before I opened the door.”

“Steve, it’s _okay._ I love dogs.” Evie glanced down at the dog currently trying to gnaw on the side of her heel and felt her mouth drop open once again. “ _You have a corgi?!”_

“What? Oh, yeah. Her name’s Queenie. Cause, uh, ya know. The queen of England has all those corgis?”

“You’re a dork.” Evie bent down and scratched the sweet girl behind her disproportionate ears, giggling when the pup put her stubby front paws on her knees, leaning forward to sniff passionately at Evie’s face before deeming her worthy of a face lick. “I can’t with this dog, Steve. Look at her little butt.”

Steve chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. “Don’t let her fool you. Her and Doger both are sass monsters. They look so cute and innocent until one of them shits on the rug.”

“I love them.” She patted Queenie’s head and whispered, “I would die for you.”

That got an outright laugh from Steve, his head falling back and his left arm coming up to cup his chest as he laughed. The noise made Queenie jump and she sent Steve a look as she pattered back into the apartment, her little butt wiggling from side to side.

If Evie thought the clothes and the watch and the car and the valet parking and the lobby and the cute dogs were impressive, it was nothing compared to the inside of Steve’s apartment.

The same dark wood from the hall carried into the apartment, filling out an open concept floor. A long, comfy looking couch sat on a wide grey shaggy rug that looked like the softest thing Evie had ever seen, facing a wall of a built in entertainment system, complete with several game consoles and an enormous flat screen TV. Which also happened to sit parallel to a wall of _floor to ceiling windows_ , the black and gold lights of New York winking at them from below. A marble island and kitchen area sat to the right of the entry, littered with a standing mixer, a stainless steel stove, and one of those hanging sets of hooks that hold pots and pans. The wall opposite of the entertainment system was entirely exposed brick and housed what looked like a full bar, down to the fancy brown liquid swimming in crystal bottles. Each of the walls rose up to an exposed ceiling, lines of dark beams and black pipes tying the entire space together. Evie was speechless.

And, if she was being completely honest, a little nauseous still.

“You’re looking a little green. Here.” Steve led her to the couch, where she promptly sank into it and decided this was where she was going to die, right here, in this soft suede-y couch, and walked back to the kitchen to fill a glass with water. He handed it to her and plopped down on the couch, tucking her hair back behind her shoulders.

“Drink slow. Just a couple sips at a time, yeah? Too much too fast will upset your stomach even more. Are you hungry at all?”

Evie shrugged a little and sipped from her glass, smiling weakly as Doger, a tan and white fluffy mix of what looked like a lab and an angel, hopped up on the empty space on the couch and rested his head on her knee. He whined softly, looking up at her with big, concerned eyes, his tail thumping against the couch.

“He’s a support animal,” Steve said when Evie’s ear scratches did nothing to soothe the worried dog. “He can probably tell you don’t feel good.”

“What a good boy,” Evie cooed, setting her glass on the rustic wooden coffee table and dropping her head to nuzzle Dogers’ side. “What, uh, how does he help you?”

“He kinda does everything, honestly.” Steve smiled at his dog with love, his eyes soft. “I’m, uh, I’m epileptic. I got Doger to help let me know when I was about to have a seizure, and then got him certified as an emotional support when my anxiety started getting really bad. He’s kinda just my hero.”

“Was it safe to go out without him?”

“Yeah. It’s been a while since I’ve had a seizure, and I wasn’t at the gallery for long. That’s typically why I don’t drink at those things, though. Alcohol doesn’t help.”

“Oh, yeah. Me, too. What’s an alcohol?”

Steve laughed and shook his head. Evie smiled back at him and snuggled down into the couch as Steve stood; he slid a coaster under her glass and Doger wiggled his way into being the little spoon, resting his furry chin on Evie’s chest.

“Your place is beautiful, by the way,” she said, watching Steve rummage through one of the cupboards and pull out a bag of veggie chips. “Do you have this entire floor to yourself?”

He nodded and opened the bag, maneuvering around the island and the tiny corgi by his feet. “Excuse me, little miss.” He bent down to pat her head and feed her a veggie straw before coming back to sit by Evie. “Yeah, this floor is the penthouse, so it’s just me. I used to share a place in Brooklyn with one of my best friends, but he wanted to do some traveling when our lease was up. The owner of this building and I go way back and he offered me a discount to come live over here. So here we are.”

He kicked his feet onto the coffee table, Queenie immediately hopping up to curl up in his lap, and started flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, scratching Queenie behind the ears.

“I’m a little tired. I don’t think I’m gonna throw up again.”

“That’s good. You can sleep in the guest room, if you want. It might be more comfortable than the couch.”

“That’s hard to believe. This couch is the shit.”

Steve laughed.

“C’mon, weirdo.” He stood again and led Evie down a hallway to the left of the front door. “This is the bathroom, if you need it.” He pointed into what looked like a glimmering white room with a black and grey cityscape shower curtain before leading her to the last door on the right.

“This is the guest room,” he said, knocking the door open with his hip. The room was decorated simply, a big bed with a white comforter and a navy blanket folded over the end of the bed. The walls were dark blue, a tan stained wardrobe sat across from the bed, sitting between two small wooden chairs with leather seats. There were three windows sitting above a reading nook, a bench covered with pillows and padding connecting the three of them. A tiny bookshelf sat next to the windows.

“Why am I not surprised it’s as beautiful as everything else?”

Steve smiled warmly. “My ma helped me decorate. I wanted to paint everything blue but she wouldn’t let me.”

“A smart woman.”

“I’d say so. I’ll let you get some rest, though. My room is on the other side of the living room, by the kitchen, if you need anything. And don’t think you’re bothering me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Evie nodded and smiled, her stomach flip flopping when he smiled and put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah? Sleep tight.” He walked out of the room, nudging a curious Queenie out with the side of his foot, and shut the door. Evie shucked her dress to the floor and tossed her bra on top of it before crawling into the huge bed. She moaned at the softness of the sheets, the fluffiness of the mattress. The one she had at home had been for brother’s for four years before it made its appearance in her apartment, so it’d seen it’s fair share of mileage.

Burrowing down into the sheets, she hugged a pillow to her chest and wondered if this was all some sort of drunken dream.


	2. Gifting you the Cosmos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie spends the day with Clint after a fight with Natasha. 
> 
> What could possibly go wrong?

Evie woke up to her phone vibrating against her face. She groaned and blearily glanced at the screen, Natasha’s face and phone number blinking at her. 

“Hello?” she answered, rubbing her eyes with her free hand and squinting through the headache pounding behind her eyelids. 

“Where the  _ fuck _ are you?” Nat demanded, her voice too loud over the phone. “You missed morning check in! You send me some weird ass text about your  _ friend Steve _ and you won’t return any of my calls. Clint and I can’t find you anywhere on the Snapchat map!” 

Fuck. Evie glanced at the clock on the bedside table; the red numbers glowed 10:35. Her, Clint, and Nat had all made a roommate pact, before Clint and Nat started dating, that any individual planning on hooking up with a stranger had until 10:00 the next morning to check in with the other roommates before they started worrying. Evie had missed it by over a half hour. 

“Shit, Nat, not so loud. I’m fine, okay? I was sleeping.” 

“I’m coming to get you. Where the fuck are you?” 

“I, uh. I actually don’t know.” 

“ _ You don’t know.  _ So not only did you miss check in, but you went home with some guy without even asking where he lives? You could be in fucking Michigan for all we know!” 

“I’m not in Michigan,” Evie snapped. “I’m in New York still. I just- it’s the fancy part of the city, I don’t know.” She glanced around the room and noticed a Victoria’s Secret bag sitting on one of the chairs across from the bed. She stood up and noticed an orange sticky note stuck to the front. 

For you. Realized you didn’t have any clothes to wear, so I ran out and got some(: 

-Steve

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, pulling an incredibly soft black crewneck with  _ Victoria’s Secret _ stamped on the front in loopy, thin lettering, and black leggings out of the bag. A matching set of blue velvet boy shorts and a bralette tumbled out of the pink tissue paper as well. 

“What? You figure out where you are yet? See the Great Lakes?” 

“No. I- Nat, he bought me clothes.” 

“Who the fuck is ‘ _ he’ _ ?” 

“This guy I met at that stupid gallery.” Evie sat on the edge of the bed and thumbed over the soft material of the bralette. “I walked into him and he offered to buy me a drink cause I dropped my phone and shattered the screen. I kinda got really drunk and threw up at the bar. He let me stay at his place last night.” 

“Did you fuck him?” 

“What? No. He didn’t even try to kiss me. Just brought me here and took care of me.” 

“Sounds like a serial killer. I’m coming to get you.” 

“Will you stop? He’s really sweet. He- Nat, I just found this bag full of stuff from Victoria’s Secret. Like, clothes. He went out and bought me clothes because all I have is the dress I puked in last night.” 

“I bet serial killers also know how to shop at a lingerie store.” 

“You’re being an ass.” 

“You deserve it. You missed check in.” 

Evie groaned and flopped back onto the bed. 

“Look, let me get dressed and see if Steve’s up. Maybe he can give me an address or something.” 

“It’d be nice. Also I’m not hanging up. Just put the phone down while you put the serial killer’s clothes on.” 

“He is not a serial killer!” 

Evie tossed the phone onto the bed and looked at the underwear Steve had bought. It was cute, but modest. Something simple and sweet and comfortable. She wondered how he’d known her size, maybe by guessing, since the bralette was a smidge too small, leaving most of her boobs out, but it was still comfortable. She tugged the leggings on over her hips and threw on the sweatshirt, pulling the slightly too long sleeves down over her hands and snuggling into it. Everything was so soft and warm and cozy. She never wanted to take it off. 

“Okay, I’m back.” 

“Glad you’re not dead. Go see if the murderer is awake.” 

Rolling her eyes, she opened the bedroom door and padded into the living area. Steve was indeed awake, dressed in a pressed pair of navy slacks, a white button up, and a navy tie. His hair was combed back, same as it had been the night before, but a few drops of water clung to the back of his neck above his collar, meaning he was freshly showered. Evie tried not to think about what he looked like naked. He was leaning against the island with a cup of coffee in his hand, nose buried in a newspaper. 

“Hey, uh, Steve?” 

He looked up and a warm smile spread across his face. Doger jumped down from the couch to greet her, sniffing her hands and nudging them with his nose until she pet him. 

“Morning. How do you like your coffee?” He gestured to some fancy French press looking machine on the counter. “I made a hazelnut roast, but I have other beans if you’d prefer something else.” 

“Bitch, you don’t have time for coffee,” Nat hissed over the phone. “I’m three seconds away from calling the cops.” 

“I, uh.” Evie took a deep breath, feeling annoyed at Natasha’s nagging. “That sounds really nice, but my roommates wanna make sure I’m okay. Um, is there anyway I could get your address? Nat wants to come get me…” 

Steve waved the paper at her and shook his head. “I’ll drive you home. I’m heading out towards the University anyway for work. It’s the least I could do.” 

“Steve, you already did so much. I can’t thank you enough. And you didn’t have to buy me clothes. Really. I could’ve just worn my dress.” 

“You didn’t seem comfortable last night. And I wouldn’t want you to have to wear clothes you puked in without washing them.” 

“What a gentleman,” Nat deadpanned. “Look, tell him to bring you home within a half hour or I’m finding you myself.” 

“ _ Alright,  _ Nat. I’ll be home soon, okay? Yeah, bye.” Evie hung up and rubbed at her pounding temples. 

“Here.” Steve slid a big glass of ice water and some wheat toast smothered in peanut butter across the island. “I’ll put some coffee in a travel mug for you. Do you like cream and sugar?” 

Evie nodded and slid into one of the bar stools, munching on her toast and watching the way Steve’s muscles rippled beneath his shirt. 

“Why do you have to go to work on a Sunday?” she asked, taking a big gulp of her water. 

“I like getting a head start before Monday rolls in.” He scooped his fancy watch off the counter and wrapped it around his thick wrist. She wasn’t sure why, but Evie’s mouth watered at the sight. “I’ve just got some emails and paperwork to sort through.” 

“But it’s the weekend.” 

“Like I said, I’m kind of a workaholic.” Steve shrugged a little and handed an MIT University travel mug to her. “You can barely taste the coffee. Is that how you like it?” 

Evie took a sip and hummed, hugging the cup to her chest and nodding. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” 

He smiled and nodded, dumping the rest of his coffee into the sink and putting the mug in the dishwasher. 

“Ready to go?” 

“I’ve just gotta grab my stuff from the room.” 

“No, I’ve got it. I was going to have your dress dry cleaned for you.” 

“That’s- no, it’s okay. I was just gonna throw it in the wash.” 

“It’s lace.” 

“So?” 

“It’ll stay in better condition if it’s dry cleaned.” Steve pulled out a pouty face. “Let me do this. Please?” 

“Steve, you’ve already done so much and I-,” 

“I’m the one that bought you the drink that got you sick. Let me repay you by dry cleaning your dress.” 

“You’re not gonna let this go.” 

“Not a chance.” 

Evie sighed and gave in, shaking her head as Steve whooped on their way out of the apartment. She noticed he brought Doger this time, the dog clad in the bright red Service Animal vest, nails clicking across the floors as he walked close to Steve’s hip. 

“So where to?” he asked, letting Doger hop in the backseat and pulling the car out of the parking lot. 

Evie rattled off her address and Steve plugged it into his fancy GPS, fingers of his free hand tapping against the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. Evie sipped her coffee and admired the side profile of Steve and his beard with his Aviator sunglasses as he drove. The ride to her apartment was basically silent, until Steve pulled up to the curb and parked the car. He cleared his throat as Evie went to get out, making her pause. 

“I don’t, uh. I don’t usually do this,” he said, pushing his sunglasses into his hair. “You’re  _ a lot  _ younger than me, and I have a hard enough time dating as it is but- I’d like to get to know you, Evie. You seem like a really sweet, genuine woman, and I’d really like to see you again. Would you be at all interested in getting a cup of coffee sometime?” He looked straight out the windshield as he spoke and Doger whined from the backseat, worming his muzzle into Steve’s neck. 

“I understand if you don’t,” he continued, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I’m fourteen years older than you and we know absolutely nothing about each other. I probably seem like a creep. Shit, I’m sorry. I just- nevermind, I-,” 

“Steve.” Evie reached over and ran a hand down his forearm, feeling the muscles relax under her touch. “Coffee sounds really nice.” 

“It does?” 

“Of course it does. You’re adorable and thoughtful and kind. You bought me clothes today because you didn’t want me to do the walk of shame in my dress. You drove me all the way home. I dunno. We could take it slow. Just hang out, ya know? There doesn’t need to be all this pressure behind it.” 

Steve nodded as she spoke, a small smile creeping it’s way onto his face. 

“No, no pressure. Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Here’s, uh, this is technically my work card but.” He pulled a pen out of the console and scribbled his phone number on the back. “This is my cell. Text or call me whenever you’d like. And we can schedule for coffee.” 

“That sounds great.” Evie tucked the card into her wallet, glancing up at him through her lashes. She popped the door open and was halfway before deciding, fuck it, and leaning back in to press a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek. 

“Thank you,” she said, their faces still close. Steve was blushing, the red spreading from the tips of his ears to his cheeks. “For everything.” 

“It’s- no trouble. I promise. Don’t forget your coffee.” 

“I don’t wanna steal your cup.” 

“You can get it back to me next time I see you. No worries.” 

“If you’re sure.” 

Steve nodded and gestured towards the house. “Better get inside before your roommate calls the cops on me.” 

Evie rolled her eyes and clambered out of the car. “I’m sorry about her,” she said, hesitating before shutting the door. “She means well.” 

“My friend Sam is the same way, don’t worry. I understand.” 

Evie smiled and shut the door, offering Steve a wave as he pulled away from the curb. She too a deep breath and walked to the front door, unable to keep a stupid grin off her face. 

Nat waited all of two seconds before rounding on her as she walked in through the door. 

“What the fuck, Evie?” she snarled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers. “Seriously? You’re the one who fucking came up with check in, and then you just get to decide whether or not you want to follow it? Nice.” 

“Not that I’m encouraging your behavior,” Clint said, his head hidden behind the kitchen curtain as he stared at the window. “But whoever you went home with has a beautiful car. That’s a limited edition German model. They only made like a hundred of those.” 

“Whoever you went home with could have also raped or murdered you. Did you even think about that?” 

“Jesus, Nat, are you kidding me?” Evie slammed Steve’s travel mug on the counter and glared at her roomate. “You were the one telling me to hook up with someone! Yeah, I missed check in. I’m sorry. But I was super fucking drunk last night and didn’t think to set an alarm so I could text you. I went home with a really nice guy who didn’t try shit with me and I’m home safe.” 

“You didn’t even tell us you were going with someone!” 

“And you didn’t tell me you were leaving the fucking gallery! I go to piss and suddenly Clint’s texting me that you guys came back here to fuck. You didn’t even ask if I wanted a ride home. You just left me there.” 

“You were probably too trashed to even know what we were asking!” 

“So you decided to just leave?!” 

“Okay, chill!” Clint unstuck his head from the window and moved between the two girls. “Look, Nat freaked out this morning because you weren’t home and weren’t answering your phone. We could’ve handled last night better, but we didn’t. You could’ve made check in, but you didn’t. Everyone is home and safe and not assaulted so can we just chill?” 

Nat glared at him and Evie shrugged.  

“Fine. I don’t care.” She scooped Steve’s cup back up and started towards her room. “I’m going to shower and go to the library. Since you seem obsessed with knowing where I am at all times.” 

Nat opened her mouth, no doubt with a pissed off response on her tongue, but Clint put his hand over her mouth and shook his head. Evie stormed to her room and threw her stuff on her bed, slamming the door behind her so hard it rattled the frame. Her grey cat lifted her head from the pillow she was dozing on, green eyes wide as Evie banged around the room. 

“Fucking stupid,” she growled, filling Diana’s food bowl and changing her water. The kitty jumped off the bed and wound around Evie’s legs a few times, purring worriedly, before moving to munch on her breakfast. “Does Nat even remember how many guys she used to go home with before Clint? I miss check in  _ one time  _ and it’s like I’m the fucking village slut.” 

Diana just crunched away at her cat food. Evie sat down next to her and scratched the spot on her back by her tail; she started purring instantly into her food. 

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to text Steve?” she asked the cat. “He seems really sweet. But he’s super old. But he’s also really cute and thoughtful and he’s really fucking hot… Ugh.” Evie laid down on the floor and spread her arms and legs out over the off-white carpet. “I don’t know what to do, D.” 

She looked around her room and tried to sort through her thoughts. Steve was an adult. A thirty six year old adult who lived in a penthouse with his dogs and drove a fancy ass car and did amazing charcoal art. He probably wanted to settle down. Get a wife and a mortgage and maybe a couple of kids. Evie was twenty two and in the middle of her junior year of college. She was ready for a steady boyfriend, sure, especially considering how horrible her last relationship had ended. But settling down? She was just hoping to make it through college at this point. 

Steve had a  _ penthouse _ that looked over New York city with expensive liquor and no roommates. Evie shared a three bedroom apartment with Clint and Nat and decorated her room with a gold flowry tapestry she’d gotten on sale at the quad in the middle of campus, and some Beauty and the Beast posters she’d gotten out of a special edition magazine. It worked well, all gold and white and blush pink, matching the fluffy rose pink comforter she bought from Bed Bath and Beyond for 75% off. But it was an apartment. Steve had a home, and all she had was a rental. 

“Boys are dumb, kitty. That’s why we haven’t adopted you a boyfriend.” She scratched Diana behind the ears and got up off the floor. “Are you gonna follow me into the bathroom again, or am I finally gonna be able to shower in peace?” 

Diana meowed loudly and traipsed after Evie as she went into the bathroom she shared with Clint, towel flung over her arm. Like always, she followed her owner straight to the standing shower and waited on the other side of the Wonder Woman shower curtain while Evie started the water. She scrolled through her Spotify playlist until she found the right playlist, turning her phone volume all the way up and stripping out of her clothes. 

The water was probably too hot, but the steam helped leech the last of the alcohol out of her system, the air around her starting to smell like a weird mix of booze and her cucumber shampoo. Diana patrolled around the bathroom, mewing loudly, until Evie shut the water off and stepped out; the cat immediately started licking at the water running down her legs, like she didn’t have a fresh bowl sitting in the next room. 

Rolling her eyes and smiling fondly, Evie made her way back to her room, ignoring the muffled arguing coming from down the hall, and got dressed, throwing on a pair of cropped black leggings and a long sleeve NYU shirt. She threw her wet hair into a sloppy bun and started loading her backpack. It was a Sunday, so the buses running to and from campus would be a little shotty, but she didn’t mind waiting. At least it was sunny out today. 

A knock at her door rattled her from her thoughts as Clint’s voice called out, “You decent, Evie?” 

“Yeah, come in.” 

Clint opened the door and leaned against the doorway. He ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and took a deep breath. 

“You headed to the library?” 

“Yeah. I have a paper due in my fiction class tomorrow that I’ve barely started. And I don’t really feel like working on it here, for obvious reasons.” 

“You want a ride? We could stop at that coffee shop on the way.” 

“I’m fine taking the bus, Clint.” 

“C’mon, Evie. Let me drive you? I have shit I need to work on, too. We’ll grab some coffee and food and do some work.” 

“Is Nat coming?” 

He shook his head. “She’s gonna hang out here for a while. I think she’s gonna study for the Russian test she has next week. It’ll just be us.” 

Evie shrugged and swung her backpack over her shoulder, sliding her feet into her worn pair of off brand Birkenstocks. “Sure, I guess. Let’s go.” 

Clint smiled triumphantly and grabbed his keys, throwing his laptop into his purple backpack and heading out to the parking lot outside their complex. Evie followed him out to his car, a bronze minivan complete with automatic sliding doors and a happy stick family window sticker on the back window. It had been a hand me down gift when Clint graduated high school, the ultimate mom van; his parents had wanted to upgrade to a supposedly ‘cooler’ car (a 2016 Toyota something that was basically their old van in a different color) and Clint got stuck with the pussy wagon. 

“You know Nat’s only pissed because she cares about you,” he said softly as he started the car. 

“Clint.” 

“Just hear me out, E,” he begged, turning out of their complex and heading towards their favorite hipster coffee shop. “Look, you going out and sleeping over at some guys’ place isn’t like you. Even if we all go out drinking, you’re the first one home. You’re mom, and the kids start to panic when mom doesn’t come home.” 

“The kids also told me to, and I quote, find myself a paint brush dick.” 

“So you went home with one of the guys from the gallery?”

Evie nodded. Clint smiled mischievously. 

“Got any dirty details to share? You haven’t said a damn thing about this guy since you got home, so he’s either got a chode, or he was so amazing in bed you don’t have words.” 

“We didn’t even kiss,” Evie laughed, settling into her seat. “We ran into each other cause I was drunk and I dropped my phone. He offered to buy me a drink and I said yes, because he’s super hot. I threw up in the bathroom.” 

Clint snorted out a laugh. 

“And he offered to take me back to his place and take care of me.” 

“On a scale of meh to fuckable, how hot was this guy?” 

“Beyond fuckable. Off the charts.” 

“And you didn’t sleep with him.” 

“I don’t think he would have let me if I tried,” Evie said honestly, pulling her wallet out as Clint pulled into the coffee shop drive through. “He was really, uh, mature about the whole thing.” 

“That’s good.” Clint waved her wallet away as he tried to slide him her card loaded with less than two dollars. “My treat. I feel bad about Nat ripping you a new asshole this morning.” 

“You sure?” 

“Mhmm. I’m assuming you want the usual, yeah? Large iced sweet black tea, less ice, and a bear claw?” 

“You’re my hero, Clint.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Now tell me more about this mystery guy. What’d he look like if he was beyond fuckable?” 

“Oh, my god, Clint. He’s fucking gorgeous. Big blue eyes, long-ish dark blonde hair, a fucking beard. He filled out a dress shirt like it was his fucking job. He looked like an upside down Dorito, seriously. His shoulders are absolutely huge and then he has this tiny little waist like he spends every second of his time in the gym.” 

Clint whistled appreciatively. 

“And why  _ didn’t _ you ride this guy like a horse? He sounds right up your fucking alley, no pun intended.” 

Evie waited until Clint had all but shouted their orders to the poor drive through lady, their total rounding out at the bottom of the screen while he pulled forward. 

“He, uh. Okay. Can I tell you something without you telling Nat?” 

“Oh, god. He has an STD.” 

“No! No, nothing like that.” 

“He’s missing all his teeth.” 

“No, Clint. He-,” 

“He’s gay and using women at bars as his cover so no one suspects he’s gay because he’s a religious official.” 

“Okay, no, and that was weirdly specific, even for you.” 

He just grinned and traded his debit card for two large plastic cups, one full of sweet iced tea, the other black cold brew coffee. Evie made a face as Clint sucked happily from his straw. 

“Black coffee is from the devil,” she said, accepting the small brown bakery bag he handed her, full of an almondy bear claw and, Clint’s favorite, a cheese Danish. 

“So is being gay, but your mystery guy seems to think it’s okay.” 

“Clint, he’s not gay,” Evie argued. “He’s- you’re going to kill me. He’s thirty six.” 

Clint spit his mouthful of coffee all over the steering wheel. 

“He’s  **_what?”_ **

“Thirty six. I went home with a thirty six year old man.” 

“No wonder you didn’t sleep with him!” Clint cried, hurriedly wiping off his steering wheel and driving towards the library. “He would’ve broken a god damn hip.” 

“Clint.” 

“He probably didn’t take his Viagra before going out. Couldn’t get it up.” 

“Clint.” 

“Did his place smell like death and disappointment? I bet his dick has wrinkles. Ooh, and saggy old man balls.” 

“ _ Clint.”  _

“How did he drive you home? Senior citizens don’t drive well in the dark.” 

“You’re an ass,” Evie spat as Clint cackled at his own jokes. “He’s thirty six, not eighty. He was, I dunno. He was really sweet and respectful. He bought me those clothes I came home in because he didn’t want me coming home in my dress, which he offered to dry clean, by the way.” 

“You don’t think it’s weird a thirty six year old guy had no problem with taking your barely legal ass home?” 

“I’m twenty two,” Evie said flatly. 

“Same difference.” Clint parked his van in the lot outside the library, the two of them clambering out and walking inside. For a Sunday, the library was surprisingly empty and they were able to find a collaboration table by the windows on the first floor. 

“Look,” Clint said, tugging his engineering homework out of his bag. “I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there. You haven’t even looked at anybody since you and Brock broke up. But going home with a guy that’s almost forty? That’s kinda messed up, E. I don’t want you giving anybody who shows you innocent attraction the green light, just because they’re sweet to you. That’s how we got into the whole Brock situation in the first place.” 

“Okay, but Steve isn’t Brock.” Evie still had a hard time saying his name, her stomach churning. “If he was, he would’ve tried to make a move on me when I was drunk last night.” 

“So he respected the fact that you couldn’t consent,” Clint said. “That’s not going above and beyond, Evie. That’s being a decent fucking human.” 

“You don’t think I should see him again.” She didn’t say it like a question.

“Did you make plans to?” 

Evie turned her wallet over in her hands, feeling like Steve’s business card was going to burn a hole through the leather. 

“I- kinda. He gave me his phone number. Wanted to know if we could meet up for coffee sometime.” 

“And what do you think about that?” 

Evie tried to ignore how honest Clint’s dark eyes were. This was why she both loved and hated being friends with him. He had his own opinions, sure, but he made her think her feelings out, get everything sorted and neat in her head before she started making plans. She wished his impulsive nature carried over into situations like these, but Clint had taken enough psychology courses to know his way around the brain and how to effectively get Evie to sit down and really think about her actions. 

“I- I don’t know, Clint. I think he’s really cute, and I haven’t wanted to hang out with anyone of the male species besides you since Brock. I kind of just want to see where this could go, ya know?” 

“If you want to see him again, I think you should,” Clint said, focusing on the homework in front of him deceptively hard. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” 

“I won’t,” Evie said, pulling out her laptop and booting it up. “I just- I’m curious. I wanna try with him.” 

“Then I say do it.” Clint smiled warmly and kicked her under the table. “Just don’t tell Nat how old he is until she calms down.” 

“Don’t worry. I don’t have a death wish.” She puller her phone out of her pocket and yanked Steve’s business card out of her wallet, typing his cell number and saving it as a contact before shakily typing out a text. 

**To Cute Steve:**

**1:33 pm:** _Hey! This is Evie, from last night. I stole your coffee cup??_

She set her phone on the table and worked her way through two and a half pages of fiction before it buzzed, the screen lighting up with a text. 

**From Cute Steve:**

**2:27 pm:** _ You didn’t steal my mug. Haha. It’s good to hear from you(: I was worried I’d scared you off.  _

**To Cute Steve:**

**2:28 pm:** _ Nahh. Gonna take a lot more than buying me clothes and being a complete sweetheart to scare this girl off.  _

It took Steve about another forty five minutes to answer, Evie switching between dwadling on her phone and typing up another couple of double-spaced pages. Clint had a pencil in his mouth, eraser shavings scattered across his face, while he stared down at the math scribbled in front of him and mumbled to himself. 

“Hey, Clint? You doing alright, buddy?” 

He groaned and dropped his face to his notebook. “I hate math,” he whined, sitting back up with a smudge of graphite on his forehead. 

“Okay, here’s the plan.” He scrubbed his hand against his face and stood. “I’m gonna go shit, because I coffee makes me shit, and then I’m going to go to that little cafe next door and get more coffee so I can shit again later. Do you want anything?” 

Evie giggled and held up her mostly full iced tea and half eaten pastry. “I’m good. Be safe, make good choices. Don’t break the toilet.” 

He gave her a thumbs up as he walked away. She dug through her bag to find her headphones, plugging them into her ears and starting her studying playlist as her phone buzzed with another text from Steve. 

**From Cute Steve:**

**3:55 pm:** _ A complete gentleman, huh? I’m sorry for taking so long to reply. I’m still at work and keep forgetting to check my phone :(  _

**To Cute Steve:**

**3:59 pm:** _ You were nothing if not gentlemanly. What’re you working on?  _

He texted her back a picture of what she assumed was his desk, littered with stacks of papers with different designs and characters with scribbled notes across them. The captain read ‘trying to figure out our newest piece. It’s not going too well :(‘ 

Evie sent back a couple of frowny faces with the helpful tip of making everyone have sex then blow up when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She tugged her headphones out and smiled. 

“Back already, Clint?” she teased, before turning around and feeling her jaw drop. 

Of course Brock fucking Rumlow would find her in the library when she was just starting to have a good day. NYU had three different libraries spread across campus and  _ of course  _ Brock was at this one. 

“Hey, Eves,” he said, smirking down at her with his hand still on her shoulder. 

“I’m not talking to you, so you can leave me alone.” She shrugged his hand off and jammed her headphones back in her ears, hoping he would just leave. But nothing with Brock was ever that easy. He wedged his six foot something frame into the chair next to hers, grabbing her laptop out of her hands and settling it in his lap as he kicked his feet onto the table and Clint’s papers. 

“More fiction shit, huh? I miss you writing my papers for me.” He grinned over her laptop, his dark hair slicked back away from his forehead and beady dark eyes. 

“Leave me alone, Brock.” 

“Aww, you really that mad at me that we can’t catch up a little?” He pouted and Evie resisted the urge to punch his face in. 

“Yes.” 

He sighed and shook his head, continuing to click through her laptop like he owned it. 

“You know, you never answered those texts I sent you after we broke up,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, letting a few strands fall into his face. 

“You mean the ones asking for friends with benefits? Gee, I wonder why.” 

Brock snorted and all but threw her computer back on the table. “You can be such a bitch sometimes, Eves. Still makes me hard to think about it.” 

“You’re a pig.” 

“Least I’m not a bitch.” He grinned and grabbed her phone as it buzzed on the table. “Who’re you texting? Better be someone I know.” He clicked his tongue and promptly frowned when he read what was on the screen. Evie panicked, knowing she had been the last one to text Steve and had been waiting for a reply. 

“Who the fuck is Steve?” Brock asked, his voice cold as he glared at her shattered phone screen. 

“None of your business.” Evie made a grab for her phone but Brock caught her wrist, his fingers tightening against the bone threateningly. Evie felt the joint pop uncomfortably. 

“I’m gonna ask again, Evie,” he said slowly, twisting her arm slightly so her wrist was hidden under the table. He tightened his hand and turned his wrist, the tendons pulling and stretching in Evie’s arm until they burned. “Who the fuck is Steve?” 

“He’s a friend from work!” she blurted. Anything to get his hands off her. “He- he put his name in my phone like that and I haven’t changed it.” 

Brock lowered his eyebrows and yanked his wrist to a different direction, dragging Evie’s with it; a thick crack echoed from under the table and searing pain burst from the joint when he finally let go. 

“Looks like your buddy Clint is coming back,” he said slowly, his eyes tracking Clint’s figure as he made his way back into the library. “So I better go. If I find out you’re lying to me about this Steve guy?” Brock reached back under the table and bent her wrist back her enough that her palm almost touched her forearm. “Good luck.” 

He stood up and stalked the opposite direction. Evie gasped and grabbed her wrist, fighting back tears as she cradled the joint in her other hand. It thudded with pain, like it had been over extended. She twisted it a few times, biting her lip at the sparks of hot pain licking up her arm, but it moved, even if sorely. So it wasn’t broken. 

“That took longer than expected,” Clint huffed, dropping his coffee cup onto the table and shedding his jacket. It took him a minute to notice Evie’s pale face, the tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“I- Brock’s here,” she mumbled, looking down at her lap and gently tracing the finger-like bruises already forming on her wrist. “He came over here and saw I was texting Steve and got pissed..” 

“Did he hurt you?” Clint’s face darkened when she nodded. “Where the fuck did he go?” 

“Clint, don’t,” she begged, looking up at him with fresh tears. “I just wanna finish this paper and go home. Please?” 

Clint took a deep breath, his anger deflating as he shook his head. 

“Okay, okay. But if he comes back over here, I’m beating the shit out of him. Where did he hurt you?” 

Evie gingerly held out her wrist; Clint gently held her arm and rotated it at the elbow, softly touching the bruises. 

“Can you move it?” 

“Yeah. I think it’s just bruised…” 

Clint ran his fingers through his hair angrily. “I leave for five fucking minutes and that son of a bitch shows up. I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t even think about it.” 

“We shouldn’t have to think about it,” she mumbled, turning back to her paper. “It’s not your fault. Can we- can we talk about something else? I don’t want to do this right now.” 

“Sure, E. Um, wanna talk about how I’m pretty sure I clogged the toilet in the men’s bathroom?” 

Evie smiled weakly and even let out at broken laugh as Clint told his story, even with the unnecessary and gross details. She pulled out her phone and texted Steve, reading quickly through his short reply of facepalm emojis. 

**To Cute Steve:**

**4:48 pm:** _ You said you trained Doger to help with anxiety, right? _

**From Cute Steve:**

**4:52 pm:** _ Yeah. Why, what’s up??  _

Evie took a deep breath and typed out her reply with shaky fingers. She’d give anything to have a snuggly Doger right now, maybe even accompanied by his handsome owner. 

**To Cute Steve:**

**4:55 pm:** _ What do you do when you feel anxious and scared?  _

**From Cute Steve:**

**4:56 pm:** _ I usually take a deep breath and count five things that I can hear, see, feel, stuff like that. I try to make it happy stuff. Like sunshine, or Dogers fur, or the sound of traffic. You gotta center yourself around what’s real and good so you don’t get lost in the bad things. Are you okay?  _

She clicked her screen off and took a deep breath, looking around the library. She could faintly smell Clint’s cologne, the same one he’d been wearing since they met their freshman year. She could hear the sound of the printer chugging out papers in the next room, the glide and hiss of the prints as they were spat from the machine. She could feel the evening sunshine on her legs, folded criss-cross applesauce on her chair; it felt nice, not too hot, not too cold. Just enough to make her feel cozy. It wasn’t quite five things, but it was enough to slow her heart rate, to control the panic starting to rise in her chest. 

**To Cute Steve:**

**5:07 pm:** _ I’m okay. Had a run in with an ex. He’s a complete ass. Gives me anxiety just thinking about him.   _

It took Steve a couple of minutes to reply, but when he did, it was with a screenshot of his Snapchat code, complete with his username and a quick, ‘Would it help if I sent pictures of the dogs?’ Evie almost instantly added him, smiling when he added her back and immediately sent her a picture of Doger sitting in a dog bed underneath Steve’s desk. The puppy looked exhausted and was staring flatly at his owner. Steve captioned it, ‘He’s been ready to go home since we got here. Poor guy.’ She sent him back a picture of a flustered Clint, who was still trying to work through the same homework he’d been working on this whole time, and captioned it, ‘Clint feels his pain.’ 

Steve sent back a selfie that had Evie’s heart jumping into her throat; his hair was mussed, like he’s been running his fingers through it, and his tie was loosened around the white collar of his shirt. He was biting the end of a pen and looking off to the side, the blue of his eyes even more noticable up close. He’d included a little dead battery sticker and written, ‘Steve feels Clint and Doger’s pain but also has work that needs to be done.’ She pulled a few strands out of her bun and pulled her shirt just a little lower so a bit of cleavage popped out and snapped a selfie to send back. Her lips were pouty enough without being a duck face, and she’d made sure to make her eyes look bigger and wider. She tapped an easy, ‘Evie is here to remind Steve that it’s still Sunday and he’s been at work way too long.’ 

“Don’t tell me you’re Snapchatting mystery guy.” Clint smirked. “Does the old man even know how to work Snapchat?” 

“Yes, I am. Yes, he does, and you’re an ass hat.” 

Clint snickered. “Do I get to see what he looks like?” 

“If you want, I guess. I’ll let you know when he replies.” 

A few minutes later, Evie’s phone lit up with said reply and she kicked Clint under the table. “Get over here if you want to see it.” 

He all but jumped up and made Evie scoot over to he could sit on her seat with her; she rolled her eyes and made room for him. 

“Open it, open it. I wanna see this geezer for myself.” 

She punched his arm before tapping the little red box to open Steve’s snap. It was another selfie, this one with his eyes focused on the camera, a little smirk curling his lips. His teeth bit into his lower lip just slightly and that paired with the few pieces of loose hair dangling towards his forehead made for a  _ very  _ pretty picture. It was easy to see the muscles of his shoulders hidden beneath his dress shirt, and he’d had the audacity to put his free hand on the back of his neck, like some sort of horny, embarrassed teenager. 

The caption read, ‘You’re distracting meee’ 

“Damn,” Clint said, watching as the timer on Steve’s picture winded down and the picture disappeared. “You weren’t kidding about the beyond fuckable.” 

“I told you,” she said, tilting her head to the side and wrinkling her nose a little, writing back a simple, ‘Who, me? Distracting? Never.’

They kept up like that for another hour and a half, sending increasingly flirty pictures back and forth. Clint rolled his eyes whenever Evie would pose for a selfie, and she promptly flipped him off every time. Eventually, Steve sent her a picture of him walking Doger out of the office, his service dog vest bright against his fur. She sent him back a thumbs up and looked at Clint, who was starting to pack up his stuff. 

“Are you ready to go?” she asked, tossing her phone and wallet into her bag and putting her laptop in it’s case. Clint nodded. 

“We need some real food,” he said, pouting and rubbing his stomach. “Only eating coffee and pastries was not the best idea.” 

Evie laughed and patted his shoulder as they left the library, assuring him Nat would let him order a pizza when they got home. They walked in the door and were immediately hit with the smell of fresh pasta, tomatoes, and garlic bread. They looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Apology spaghetti.” Nat, though Russian, had grown up in a very Italian neighborhood, with her Russian dad and Italian mother. Mrs. Romanoff had her daughter making fresh pasta by the time she was six, meaning Nat could cook her way around a kitchen pretty easily. She didn’t do it often, maybe some homemade chicken alfredo or stuffed shells every now and then, but she reserved her spaghetti and meatballs for when she wanted to apologize for something. Hence, apology spaghetti. 

Sure enough, Nat was dishing out heaping portions of pasta into their cheap bowls when Evie and Clint made their way into the kitchen. There was garlic bread and a bottle of Evie’s favorite $5 pink moscato already on the table. 

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you this morning,” Nat said, not looking up as she topped each pile of pasta with a couple of meatballs in sauce. “I was just worried and wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Evie walked over and hugged her friend from behind, fitting her face between Nat’s shoulder blades. “It’s okay,” she said. “I get it. I’ll make sure to make check in next time.” 

“Aww, I love when my girls get along,” Clint cooed, planting a wet kiss to Nat’s cheek and hugging both of them. 

They both glared at him playfully. 

“You sound like Hugh Hefner when you talk like that,” Evie said, pulling out her chair and uncorking the wine. 

“There are worse things to be than a rich old guy that gets laid all the time,” he said, grabbing a piece of garlic bread and biting into it. Nat opened her mouth to argue with him but was interrupted by a knock at the door. The three looked at each other before Evie sighed and stood up. 

“I got it.” 

She opened the door to a bored looking delivery man, a vase full of flowers in his hand. “I have a package for Evie Montgomery?” he said, glancing at his pad then back up at her. 

“That’s, uh, that’s me. But I didn’t-,” 

“Mr. Rogers sends his best wishes and this note.” The guy held out a small white envelope with Evie’s name written on the back in loopy writing. He held the flowers out for her, a crystal-like white vase filled with baby’s breath and round flowers with wide petals and a yellow center. They had skinny stems and were unlike anything she’d ever seen from a flower shop. Light purple, pink, yellow, and white, the white with a pink ring at the end of each petal at the center, the color bleeding into an ombre as the petals fanned out. “Have a nice night.” 

Evie thanked the guy and closed the door with her foot, still staring at the flowers in her hands. Steve had sent her flowers. When did he even have time to do that?? He’d been in the office all day, and it was a Sunday. She set the flowers on the counter, ignoring her roommates stares, and opened the envelope. There was a tiny folded note inside, scribbled in Steve’s handwriting. 

I only remembered your address because my car did. I promise. And your Snapchat name has your last name in it, so that’s how I got it. Surprise! You mentioned being anxious earlier, so I thought I’d send you these. They’re Cosmos, a flower usually found in Mexico and South America (thank you Google). They symbolize peace and tranquility. Hopefully they help you relax and make you smile a little. 

Steve

“Who sent you flowers?” Nat asked, gingerly holding up one of the pink ones to smell it. 

“I, uh. That guy I went home with last night,” Evie said slowly, still reading over the note and feeling her cheeks turning more and more red. “His name is Steve. And he’s, um. He’s really sweet. Holy shit.” 

“Those are from the geezer?” Clint asked, his mouth still full of garlic bread. “Damn. He works quick.” 

“The geezer?” Nat looked between Evie and Clint. “What do you know that I don’t?” she asked, glaring at her boyfriend. 

“Steve’s a little older than us,” Evie said, unable to stop smiling as she set Steve’s note down. “But he’s wonderful.” She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the flowers and Steve’s note, surrounding the flowers with little hearts and posting it on her story. She sent a follow up picture to Steve, thanking him and gushing to him about how sweet he was to think of her. He sent back a selfie. His tie undone and hanging loose around his neck; the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, and he was grinning widely. He wrote, ‘I’m glad you got them! Was worried the delivery wouldn’t come until tomorrow. I just wanted to do something to make you feel even just a little better.’

Evie sent him back another picture of the flowers littered with heart stickers, her incident with Brock completely forgotten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another link to a lovely picture of the general look Steve has!   
> http://www.popstaronline.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Chris-Evans-2015.jpg 
> 
> And here's a link to Cosmos if anyone is interested in reading about them(: they're pretty cool.   
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cosmos_bipinnatus


	3. Coffee Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat and Evie have a heart to heart. Steve and Evie go on a date!!  
> Kissing and smooching and touching ensues.  
> Oh, and Clint is a lovable idiot.

**From Cute Steve:**

**9:17 am:** _So I have a question._

Evie rolled over in her bed and groaned, patting Diana’s head as the cat wormed closer to her under the blankets. She blinked at her phone screen, too bright in the dark of her room, and couldn’t help but smile a little when she saw it was Steve that had texted her.

**To Cute Steve:**

**9:20 am:** _What’s up?_

Diana purred happily as she laid across Evie’s chest, rubbing her cheeks against Evie’s face and getting her whiskers up her nose.

**From Cute Steve:**

**9:22 pm:** _This Friday is one of the few nights where I don’t have anything to do after work. Would you want to get dinner with me?_

Evie typed back an enthusiastic yes and felt herself blushing when Steve sent her back a line of exclamation points and a time the would be picking her up on Friday. She rolled back over and hugged Diana to her chest, wanting to scream with excitement. Logically, she knew they’d eventually end up going out on a date, since they’d spent the last couple of days texting back and forth nonstop. But thinking about going out with Steve and actually going out with him were two totally different things. What was she going to wear? Where were they even going? Would he expect anything? He hadn’t seemed like that kind of guy, hadn’t made any sexual advances, but things sometimes changed at the end of a date. She groaned and buried her face in Diana’s fur before deciding she needed to get her day started, needed to do something with herself before she worried herself into a coma.

She kissed the back of Diana’s fuzzy head and rolled off the bed to feed her before looking through her closet for a semi-publicly-acceptable shirt and a pair of leggings. She glanced at her phone screen and groaned, popping a piece of gum in her mouth in favor of brushing her teeth so she had time to make coffee before she had to make the bus. Tuesdays were her busy days, with back to back classes from 10:30 till almost 8, and then she had to race from class back home to change before her closing shift at the bar.

Tapping her fingers against the kitchen counter while their Keurig hissed out a stream of French roast coffee, Evie watched Nat walk quietly out of her room, her red hair bouncing in a short, high ponytail, clad in dark jeans and a black leather jacket. And her favorite black velvet booties.

“You look cute,” she commented, pouring some of her marshmallow flavored coffee creamer into the travel mug Steve had given her.

“I have a presentation.” Nat made a face and grabbed a granola bar out of her cupboard. “If I had an option, I’d skip. Clint kept me up all night.”

“Bow chika bow wow.”

“I wish. That comic book series he’s obsessed with just announced their releasing an extension to his favorite hero, so now he gets to waste more money he doesn’t have on comic books.”

Evie groaned in sympathy.

“Yeah,” Nat said, rubbing her face a little. “Do you have to go to your first class? I have time before my presentation and I just really wanna talk boys with you.”

“Let me check the attendance rules, but I’m pretty sure I can skip.” Evie was going to skip, even if she’d lose attendance points; it was so rare Nat wanted to open up, talk stuff out, and she wasn’t about to leave her friend hanging. “Yeah, I’m okay. I have class at 11:45 but that’s it.”

Nat nodded and grabbed her bag, swinging it easily over her shoulder and grabbing Clint’s keys off the ring. “He doesn’t have class today and said I could borrow the car,” she said at Evie’s confused look. “Figured we could go to the library and sit and talk? I really don’t want to do it here.”

The fact that it was because Clint was here was left unspoken. Evie automatically paled a little at the memory of what had happened the last time she went to the library, but tried to shake it off. What were the chances Brock was going to be there a second time?

“Y- yeah, that’s fine. Let’s go.” She hoped Nat wouldn’t see her physically shake off the fear as she reached for her own bag, but her roommate was nothing if not observant.

“You okay, Eves?” They clambered into Clint’s car, tossing their bags into the back and making their way on campus.

“I guess I have boy stuff to tell you, too.” She took a drink from Steve’s cup and paused. “A lot of stuff, actually.”

“You go first,” Nat offered. “You still haven’t told me about that guy that sent you flowers.”

“Oh.” Evie felt herself blushing. “That- those were from Steve.”

“Steve the murderer you went home with the other night?”

“He’s not a murderer, but yes.”

“So must be more than a one night thing if he’s sending flowers to the apartment.”

“It- yeah.”

“You gonna tell me about him or are you just gonna sit over there and mumble?”

“You’re the worst.” Evie laughed and shook her head. “He’s really sweet, Nat. A total gentleman. I was hammered and at his place and he didn’t try shit to get me into bed with him. He’s got these big blue eyes and is built like a fucking wall. Like, I’m pretty sure his abs have abs.”

Nat hummed appreciatively and circled the library parking lot for a spot.

“And a beard. His hair is basically the color of honey and he’s so muscular and sweet and kind. He seems like a genuinely _nice guy._ ”

“God knows you need more of those in your life.” Nat switched the car off and they climbed out, walking the short distance to the library and finding a small table by the cafe on the first floor. “Did he give you his number or anything?”

Evie nodded and sat her bag down. “Yeah, and I have him on Snapchat and stuff. Speak of the devil.” She couldn’t help smiling as the little ghost notification with Steve’s name on it popped across her screen; she opened the picture and felt herself flushing and grinning at her phone like an idiot at the selfie of Steve at his work desk with his tie thrown over his shoulder, an exasperated Doger on his doggy bed in the background. Steve’s eyes were wide and also crossed, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. The caption read ‘When the intern accidentally gets you coffee with FOUR SHOTS OF ESPRESSOOOOOO.’ Evie snorted and showed the picture to Nat, smiling widely at her friend.

Nat eyed her and puckered her lips a little, the way she did when she was thinking of the right way to say something. Evie’s smile dropped.

“What?” she asked warily, sending Steve a quick picture of the library cafe with a laughing/crying emoji before setting her phone face down on the table. “That’s your thinking face and that face always makes me nervous.”

“Since I have to start off with a sarcastic comment, what are you doing talking to an adult male with what looks like a stable job and a fucking cute dog? You only date sweaty meatheads that define work as borrowing money from their parents.”  

“I deserved that,” Evie said, laughing. “Go on.”

“So he said the intern got him coffee, which obviously means he himself can’t be an intern, and he holds a high enough position to not get his own coffee.”

Evie swallowed nervously.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Does this guy go to school? Work at his parents company? What? Cause no guy our age is anywhere close to being anything more than an intern. Let alone a higher up.”

“I’ll tell you, but you have to swear you won’t hit me or flip this table on top of me.”

“Evie.” Nat banged her forehead onto the table. “Why can’t you just date a sweet guy with no baggage or information you have to tell me about after I promise not to assault you?”

“Because I’m an idiot with a weird kink for dating drama, apparently.” Evie took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “Steve doesn’t go to school. And it’s not his parents company, it’s his. He owns part of it with one of his friends. He, uh, he can do that because he has business, art, and computing degrees. Because he’s thirty six.”

Nat just stared at her.

“You mean to tell me,” she said, her voice too calm for Evie’s liking. “That not only did you go home with a guy that’s almost forty, but you got his number and are pursuing an interest in him.”

“Nat, it’s not-,”

“That guy is old enough to be your dad.”

“If he’d had a kid at fourteen! Jesus Christ, Nat. You and Clint both could fucking care less that I might have actually met someone. But the minute I say his fucking age, you’re both relationship experts that get to tell me who I can and can’t be with. It’s like fucking high school all over again. Do you know how annoying that is? Yes, he’s older than me. We’ve established that. But he has a _career_ and _drive_ and he’s _sweet_ and _goofy_ and he _makes me smile._ He fucking sent me relaxation flowers because I freaked out the other night because Brock decided it’d be a good idea to make an appearance.”

Nat’s face shifted from anger into surprise.

“Yeah, I saw Brock. Had a great chat and ended it with him almost breaking my wrist.” Evie shoved her shirt sleeve up and thrust her arm out, spinning it so Nat could see the deep purple and black finger-shaped bruises spotting her skin. “Look, I know Steve is a lot older, but he’s the first guy I’ve felt comfortable around since Brock and I broke up. He doesn’t make me nervous, Nat. I’m not scared of him. And I want to see where things could go with him.”

Scrubbing her hands over her face, Nat sighed and shook her head. “Okay, let’s just- I had no idea you’d seen Brock.” Her thin fingers gently wrapped around Evie’s arm as she took a closer look at the bruises. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little, if I turn it a certain way.” _Or if I try to move it at all, really._

“I know you don’t want to, but you need to file a police report. I know!” Nat held up her hand when Evie opened her mouth to argue. “I know it’s been months since everything went down with you two, but if he’s still doing shit to you anytime he sees you, that’s not okay.”

“It’s just going to make him mad,” Evie said softly, looking down at the table. “I barely see him anyway. That was the first time in months. I didn’t even know he still went to NYU.”

Nat chewed her lower lip, looking every bit like she wanted to argue, but ended up just sighing.

“Okay. If you’re okay without a report, then that’s okay. I just want you safe, Evie. Guys like Brock don’t just go away.”

“I know. But he’s probably graduating soon anyway, and spends all his time at his stupid frat house. There’s no point in me dragging all that stuff up again, ya know? It’d just make him mad and ruin his life.”

“Kind of like the way he ruined yours?”

“Nat-,”

“Okay, okay, I’m done lecturing. You promise you’re okay?”

Evie nodded.

“Promise. Now you have to tell me about your boy troubles before I have to got to class. Are you and Clint okay?”

“I think so?” Nat rubbed her face again and groaned. “I just worry about where things are going with us. And I know I overthink and worry too much, but it’s still there, ya know?”

“So what exactly are you worried about? Explain it to me.” Evie scooted her chair closer to the table and put her chin in her hands. Nat had been overthinking anything to do with guys since they had met in middle school, and very little had changed in that department. She just thought too much, read into little gestures and words and things that meant absolutely nothing harmful to the person making them, but meant the worst to Nat. Evie’s favorite story was Nat accusing a high school boyfriend of cheating on her because he stopped texting her as often, resorting only to social media to contact her. Come to find out it’s just because he dropped his phone in a toilet at a party and didn’t want to admit his fuck up to his girlfriend. They broke up not too long after.

“You know I love Clint. He’s- he’s the best thing to ever happen to me, Evie. But he can be so immature sometimes… I get that he likes comic books and superheroes and all that stuff. It’s fine. But staying up all night and gushing to your girlfriend about it when you both kinda have shit to do the next day? And sometimes it seems like all he does is sit at home and eat pizza and play video games. He barely works enough to make rent, and he skips class a lot more than he should. He’s still passing, by the grace of God, but still. We’re at that age when people start settling down and getting married and I’m really scared he doesn’t have the capacity to do any of that.”

“Have you talked to him about any of this?”

No.” She looked sheepish and guilty. “I don’t want to offend him. You know how he is. He already thinks we shouldn’t be together because I’m supposedly ‘out of his league.” Nat matched the air quotes with an eye roll. “He’s going to freak out and think he’s not enough for me, which he is. I don’t want to break up or end anything. I’m just worried, Evie. Dating Peter Pan is cute until you’re in your twenties and wanting something deeper, and he’s still playing Call of Duty with the Lost Boys.”

“If you ever needed a sentence to summarize Clint Barton, that’s it.”

Nat laughed a little and shook her head. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Of course I don’t. I think that’s a valid concern. I think you should talk to him, though. Clint is capable of having grown up feelings, he just has to find them first. He loves you, Nat, and I feel like he does have those deeper feelings and plans, but he doesn’t want to rush things, or make you uncomfortable. You’re not exactly the most comfortable with commitment.”

She had the grace to blush a little as Evie went on.

“In his head, he’s probably doing that thing where he’s being respectful and thoughtful of what you want, when he hasn’t asked you what you want. Kind of like that week after your dad came to visit and you were super upset and he barely talked to you cause he thought you wanted space? Does that make sense?”

Nat nodded sadly and snorted. “He tries so hard,” she said lovingly. “He’s just usually off the mark. So far off.”

“Ironic, considering how good his aim is with everything else.”

Nat rubbed at her eyes, smiling a little, looking significantly less stressed than she had when they’d walked in.

“I’m sorry for freaking out on you about your murderer boyfriend,” she said softly, making Evie roll her eyes. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Brock put you through hell and you don’t deserve that, ever again.”

“I know. And I know Steve is older. I actually puked when he told me.”

Nat’s eyebrows shot into her forehead.

“It was mostly all the booze I’d been drinking, but he mentioned he had three different degrees and owned part of his own company, and I had to ask how old he was. And he told me thirty six and I basically sprinted to the bathroom and hurled.”

“And he still wanted to take you home with him? Guy must be desperate.” Nat snickered and Evie kicked her under the table. “When do we get to meet him?”

“I haven’t even gone on a real date with him yet,” Evie whined.

“Well, when is that happening?”

“We’re going to dinner this Friday.”

“And he’s picking you up, right?”

“Probably.”

“So we’ll meet him then.”

“Nat.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

“Natasha.”

“Please?” Nat pouted and folded her hands under her chin, the epitome of innocence to any unsuspecting bystander. But Evie had seen Nat break the arm of some guy catcalling them on their way home from a bar. She knew better.

“You’re not going to threaten his life?”

“I mean, if he deserve it, I think I’m obligated to.”

“You are the worst friend.”

“I think you mean I am the best friend. Who else do you know that can follow through with a threat on someone’s life? No one. Exactly.”

Evie sighed heavily and Nat laughed.

“I have to go to class. You can meet Steve if you want. Just be nice to him and don’t threaten him.”

She just smiled innocently as Evie packed up her stuff and made her way to class.

The rest of the week seemed to fly by, Evie’s date with Steve forced to the back of her head until Friday finally came and she was crammed in her closet, staring desperately at her clothes, while Clint and Nat lounged on her bed.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried,” Clint said, scratching Diana behind her ears. “He probably has cataracts in both eyes at his age.”

“So there’s no point in dressing up. You could wear sweats and he’d have no idea.”

“You two are the least helpful friends in the history of unhelpful friends.”

“Why don’t you wear leggings and a cute top? That’s easy and cute.”

“But he said to dress up.”

“So wear that velvet skirt you’re obsessed with and your denim button down and your brown knee high boots,” Clint offered, making kissing noises to Diana while Nat and Evie stared at him. “What?”

“That’s actually a really good idea,” Evie said, still staring at him in shock.

“I pay attention sometimes,” Clint defended as Nat reached over to lay the back of her hand across his forehead to see if he was running a fever. “Stop, Nat, c’mon.”

Evie dove into her closet and pulled the outfit on, turning a couple of times in her mirror to make sure her top was tucked in all the way. The skirt was a dark blue velvet, just long enough to hit the middle of her thighs while being high waisted. She’d tucked her light blue jean button up into it, folding the collar so the small jewels at the ends sparkled, and she’d zipped the calf height dark brown boots over a pair of tall socks with cats on them. Steve wouldn’t be seeing her socks and she didn’t feel like hunting for nicer ones.

Nat handed her a pair of simple pearl earrings and applauded when she tousled her moussed curls a little more.

“See? You look hot without looking skanky.” Clint patted himself on the shoulder.

“I owe you.” Evie hugged him quickly before reaching for her makeup, making sure her lipstick was the right shade of purply red. She glanced at her phone and opened a text from Steve from a couple minutes before saying he was on his way. Her stomach dropped to the floor. She hadn’t been on a date in months, not since Brock, and that thought alone made her want to puke. Or pass out. Or both. Can’t go on a date if you’re unconscious.

“Hey, you’re fine.” Nat stood and braided a string of Evie’s hair, pinning it away from her face with a few well placed bobby pins, moving just enough hair back to show her earrings. “You’ve done nothing but flirt with this guy for over a week. No reason to freak out now.”

“If you were gonna freak out, you should’ve done it when his geriatric ass was taking you home,” Clint said, stretching himself out along Evie’s bed now that Nat had stood up.

“You’re not helping,” Evie said, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt and digging through her backpack for her pack of gum. She’d already brushed her teeth, twice, but the last thing she wanted was bad breath. She was really, _really_ hoping Steve was the kind of guy to kiss on the first date.

A knock at the door made all three of them freeze.

“Holy shit,” Evie whispered, feeling the color drain out of her face. Her gut tightened, a weird mix of excitement and pure terror pooling in her stomach. She could already feel her hands getting clammy. Nat was the first one to move, rolling her eyes and pushing an uncoordinated Evie towards the door.

“It’s just a date.” She mussed Evie’s hair one more time before retreating down the hallway.

Evie took a deep breath and tried not to bite through her lip as she hauled the front door open.

And there was Steve, dressed smartly in a dark grey suit with a deep turquoise/ocean blue button up underneath it. He had the buttons of his jacket undone, revealing the shiny silver buckle of a black leather belt; his black dress shoes were perfectly shined and reflecting the dim light radiating from inside the apartment. There wasn’t a hair out of place, of course, and he’d styled it to swoop slightly to the right with a soft part. Evie’s stomach flipped over at how good he looked.

“Wow,” he murmured, fingers tightening on Doger’s leash, the dog’s fluffy tail thumping happily against his pant leg. “You look beautiful.”

Evie felt herself flushing red. “You look really good, too. That, uh, your shirt matches your eyes.”

A blinding smile spread across his face, his pink lips stretching across his perfectly white and straight teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Thanks.” His cheeks turned pink and he scratched at the back of his neck. He opened his mouth to say something else when a quiet, “ _Invite him inside, dammit!”_ hissed from inside the apartment. Evie groaned.

“My roommates really want to meet you,” she said, fighting down the flush burning her face from the inside out. “You don’t have to, really. They’re just really annoying and bored and probably want to make you super uncomfortable.”

Steve smiled warmly, touching the tips of his fingers to Evie’s shoulder as she rambled.

“I’d love to meet them.”

“You’re going to regret saying that,” she warned him, stepping out of the doorway so he and Doger could make their way inside. She watched as his eyes swept over their poor excuse for a living room, just a hand me down couch and armchair crammed in front of a garage sale TV resting on a sideways bookcase. Clint’s Xbox and games were messily tangled with a slew of cords, including the internet cable they’d managed to swindle from their neighbor. The kitchen sat next to the living room, the table stained and housing mismatched chairs, a pile of dirty dishes cradled in the sink. The floors were hardwood, magically, but they were scuffed and probably needed to be swept. The blinds were dirty, the counters needed dusting, the pile of laundry sitting in the basket next to the chair needed to be folded (and probably washed again). It was everything a college apartment should be, and everything Steve’s penthouse _wasn’t._

His gaze swept over the liquor and wine bottles lined up on top of each kitchen cupboard and he laughed.

“Impressive collection,” he teased, signalling for Doger to sit with a quick motion of his hand and making his way into the kitchen to get a closer look at the bottles. “Who’s the beer drinker?” He pointed to the pyramid of empty cans sitting next to the stove.

“That’s me.” Clint’s voice carried from the hall as him and Nat walked into the living room. Clint looked like an excited puppy, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Nat looked every bit like Diana when Evie was late feeding her- murderous and very much ready to threaten a life.

“The Brooklyn Brewing Company just released their newest draft in stores last week,” Steve said, picking up one of Clint’s cans and reading through the label. “Have you tried it? It’s a maple lager. Supposed to be good for the fall.”

Clint looked both impressed and intimidated.

“I, uh, I actually haven’t. But I’m always down for a good dark beer. I’m Clint, by the way. Evie didn’t tell us you were a beer guy.”

“Steve.” Steve closed the space between him and Clint and shook his hand, the muscles in his arms visibly rippling even through his shirt and jacket. Evie bit down an aroused squeak. “I’m a learned beer guy. A bunch of my buddies always gave me shit for drinking Coors Light once we graduated college, so I kinda had to learn how to step up.”

They both laughed a little before letting go of each other’s hands, and Evie didn’t miss the way Steve’s was shaking. Doger must have picked up on it, too, choosing that moment to let out a low whine and trot to Steve’s side, pushing his nose into the palm of Steve’s hand.

“This is Doger.” He scratched the dog behind the ears and let out a slow breath. “He’s my everything support animal.”

“He’s beautiful.” Nat finally spoke up and Evie internally cheered as the murderous look drained from her friend’s face. “What kind of dog is he?”

“He’s a mutt,” Steve said, rubbing his thumb against the soft spot between Doger’s eyes. He wagged his tail happily, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth at the affection. “The shelter I rescued him from thinks he’s a mix of a lab and a boxer, but they’re really not sure. You can pet him, if you want. The vest is mostly for when I’m out in public, so people don’t distract him.”

Nat dropped to her knees and stroked her hand down Doger’s flank, grinning when he wiggled his butt and dropped to roll onto his belly. Her and Clint cooed happily at him, two sets of hands reaching out to scratch his brown and white belly.

“Jokes on you, they really just wanted to meet you so they could play with your dog,” Evie teased, walking up behind Steve and hesitantly putting her hand on his arm. He turned his head and grinned that pantie dropping smile, eye crinkles and everything, before grabbing her hand in his and pressing a warm, dry kiss to each of her fingers.

“It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, believe me.” Steve’s eyes bored into hers, his gaze electric, the black of his pupils expanding just slightly to swallow the blue around them. Evie practically gulped. His voice was low and soft, just a rumble against her fingertips, and it made her stomach tighten again, heat pulsing through her body.

“I would just leave him here to play with you guys.” Steve straightened up and raised his voice to a normal level. “But I kind of need him for dinner.”

Clint pouted and Steve and Nat both laughed. “Maybe next time,” he offered, patting his thigh so Doger rolled over and came back to his side. “This time, though, we have dinner reservations to make.”

“Where are you guys going?” Nat asked, her voice cool, assessing. Steve took it in stride.

“There’s a French restaurant downtown that I made reservations at. They have the best seafood in New York.”

“Sounds fancy.” Nat didn’t look impressed. Steve shrugged a little, grabbing Doger’s leash.

“It’s alright. There’s definitely fancier, but I figured something simple for a first date would be nice.” He smiled warmly at Evie, making her practically melt into the floor. “Somewhere nice, but where we won’t get yelled at for trying to hold a conversation.”

“Do they have a bar?”

“Nat,” Evie groaned, knowing exactly where this was going.

“They do,” Steve said, looking surprised and confused.

“So you’re planning on drinking and then trying to drive Evie home? Or are you just going to take her to your place, like last time, and no one will hear from her for twenty four hours?”

“Okay, we’re leaving.” Evie glared at Nat and grabbed Steve’s hand, practically dragging him to the door. “Thanks for being so wonderful and polite, guys. Really appreciate it.”

“Your sarcasm is astounding,” Nat shot back, folding her arms over her chest.

“Okay, wait, Evie, wait.” Steve dropped Evie’s hand in favor of cupping the small of her back. He took a deep breath and turned to face Nat, his face falling into a frown.

“Look, I know what you both probably think of me,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. “You probably think I’m some creep trying to get my dick wet, trying to see how many college girls I can get with. I get it. I’m fourteen years older than all of you, maybe more. But that’s not what this is. I invited Evie for a drink that night because she’s a beautiful, intelligent woman and I wanted to know more about her. I also broke her phone, but that’s not the point. Sex was, and is, one of the last things on my mind right now, okay? I’m not some fraternity fuck boy. I’m an adult, we’re all adults, and I’d hope we can communicate as such. Evie missing her check in was my fault, but I’ve done nothing else to imply that I’m a bad guy, or that I’m only looking for a quick fuck. I understand why you’re being cautious, and I respect that you care enough about Evie to be concerned, but I’m _not_ going to hurt her.”

Natasha Romanoff, for once, was speechless. Clint had his mouth hanging open, glancing from Nat to Steve like he was watching a tennis match, and Evie was staring at Steve, touched that he was willing to stand up for himself, for them, and more than a little turned on by his use of swear words.

“If you’ll excuse us.” Steve slipped his arm around Evie’s waist and hugged her close, their hips bumping together. “I’m going to take this stunning, sweet woman to dinner.”

And he just marched them out the door and into his fancy sports car. They were silent for the first couple minutes of the ride, the only sounds the hum of the radio and Doger’s breathing.

“I’m sorry if that was out of line,” Steve said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I just- you were so excited when I got there, and your face just fell. I couldn’t stand seeing you upset like that.”

“Steve, it’s okay.” Evie reached over and pried one of his hands off the wheel, braiding her fingers through his and smiling when they seemed to fit together perfectly. “Honestly, Nat needed someone besides me to tell her off. She means well, she really does, but she goes about it the totally wrong way.”

“I understand why she’s concerned,” he said, his voice earnest. “I really do. But, at the end of the day, going out with me was entirely your decision. I wasn’t going to make you if you didn’t want to. And she couldn’t have stopped you if you wanted to come with me. It’s your choice, and I just feel like she needs to trust you a little bit more. Sorry, I’m acting like I know her and I really don’t.”

“No, you’re right.” She squeezed his hand. “Nat’s always had trust issues. She just thinks herself into the worst possible situation, and then it seems like the only outcome is the worst one. She’s done that since we were in middle school.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve pulled on their joined hands to kiss the back of Evie’s hand. “That sounds kind of exhausting.”

“Oh, it is.” She laughed and settled their braided fingers into her lap. “But she deals with all of my exhausting shit, too, so it’s okay.”

He smiled at her again, eyes bright and warm, before changing the subject to ask about her day. After that, it felt like they didn’t stop talking.Steve asked her everything, wanting to know about her family, her hometown, what she was studying. He laughed at each and everyone one of her sarcastic comments, falling back into his chair and clapping a hand over his left pec when he found something particularly funny. He talked to Evie about everything, from his time in the military to his mom, a sweet woman with eyes that matched his that lived in a brownstone in Brooklyn. He told her about all of his friends, Sam, Bucky, Thor, T’Challa, Peggy, Tony, and all their significant others. He was so open, so comfortable, that Evie almost missed her stomach dropping at his question.

“So have you, um, have you dated much? Any crazy ex boyfriends I should know about?”

He meant it as a joke, she could tell, but it didn’t stop her from dropping her fork back onto her plate, the silver clattering loudly against the dish in the quiet hum of the restaurant. Her stomach filled with dread at the thought of explaining Brock to Steve, of practically reliving that entire nightmare. Doger’s head snapped up from where it was resting on his paws and he shifted to put his head on her knees, letting out a low whine, his dark eyes flickering from Evie to Steve.

“Evie?” Steve reached out and gently took hold of her hand, his eyes wide and worried. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me. We’re okay.”

“I- my ex is a really touchy subject,” she managed to croak out, looking down at the table and fighting not to cry. The night had been going _so well._

“We won’t talk about it, then,” Steve said, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand in slow circles. “It’s okay. Is there anything I can do?”

Evie shook her head and took a deep breath, scratching Doger’s ears and feeling him relax against her leg, knowing his job was done.

“Why don’t we talk about something else? We could always talk about my dating experience. That’s a fun one.”

Crunching her eyebrows together, Evie lifted her head to look at Steve, confused at the smile breaking out across his face.

“So you know my friend Peggy that I told you about? The one that helps run my company?”

“The British one?”

Steve nodded and smiled politely at the waitress as she topped off their water glasses. “Well, her and I were engaged at one point.”

Evie felt her stomach fall through the floor.

“We’re not anymore!” Steve said, seeing her panic. “Shit, I should’ve led with that. Peggy is one of my best friends. We were never meant for anything more than that. We’re both too stubborn, and she’s very much in love with her girlfriend Angie. Nothing to worry about.” He pressed a warm kiss to the back of her hand, his eyes genuine, his smile sweet and soft.

“We dated for a couple of years because all of our friends said we should. I asked her to marry me because it felt like the logical thing to do, ya know? We were in our twenties, building a company together, and what better way to strengthen your company than be married?” He laughed and shook his head. “It took us two weeks of wedding planning to realize we’re both too stubborn to be together. All we did was argue and fight, and it was all we’d done while dating, just neither of us realized it. So we called off the wedding and focused on the company.”

“Is it awkward at all? Seeing her every day?”

“It was, at first.” Steve picked up the bottle of wine resting on their table and refilled their glasses. “But now it’s just a weird, fond memory that neither of us have any interest in recreating.” He squeezed Evie’s hands and smiled at her like she hung the moon; her stomach flipped over, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck.

“Peggy’s now been dating her girlfriend Angie for a little over three years, and I’m, uh, pursuing other interests.”

“Other interests, huh?” Evie scooted her chair closer to the table and leaned forward, trying not to smile. “In what form?”

“Well, I’m thinking of picking up knitting.”

“Steve!”

Steve’s laugh was loud and echoed across the small space, his head knocking back onto his shoulders; he calmed himself down to low snickers as their waitress dropped a black leather folder on their table, smiling and assuring them there was no rush to pay. Steve dug into his pants pocket for his wallet, giving Evie a dry look as she pulled hers out of her purse.

“You better be taking that out to show me a keychain collection,” he warned, sliding a thin charcoal colored card into the folder without even looking at the bill. “Because you’re not bringing it out to pay for anything.”

“But-,”

“Nope.”

“Steve, that pasta was almost twenty dollars.”

“And it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.” He playfully glared at her over the rim of his wine glass. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking at prices.”

“At least let me give you some cash.”

“Letting you pay for anything would be an insult to my honor.” Steve accepted the folder back from the waitress, tossing in a fifty dollar tip and scribling a loopy _Steve Rogers_ across the bottle line. “My ma would come all the way from Brooklyn just to yell at me.”

“But that’s so much money. With the pasta and the wine and- and the fancy food you got. I can pay you back.” Evie was whining, she knew she was whining, but guilt was starting to bubble a pit in her stomach. She’d purposely chosen the least expensive thing on the menu, not expecting Steve to order an entire bottle of top shelf wine, or for him to casually drop the waitress a _fifty dollar tip._

“Evie, this is a _date_.” Steve finished his wine and linked his fingers through hers. “Let me spoil you a little.”

“I feel bad, though.”

He opened his mouth to retort, probably with something sarcastic about his character, but he paused, tilting his head to the side slightly, kind of like a confused puppy. Evie flushed under his gaze and hurriedly downed the last few gulps of her wine, the alcohol mixing pleasantly with the leftover taste of dinner.

“What?” she asked, chewing her lower lips nervously.

“You’re not used to someone treating you to things, are you?”

“I mean, Clint bought me pastry the other day and I almost cried. Does that count?”

Steve laughed and stood, buttoning his jacket and offering Evie the hand not holding Doger’s leash. “I meant someone you have romantic interest in.”

“Oh. Then… No. Not really.” She took his hand, smiling a little when he kissed her fingers before walking them out of the restraunt.

Steve just grinned and Evie realized her mistake.

“I mean, of course I’m used to it. Psh, people buy me stuff all the time. Old news. Lame.”

He rolled his eyes, dropping her hand in favor of wrapping his arm around her waist, pressing a warm kiss to her temple.

“Since I’m ignoring that comment,” he said, laughing a little. “How do you feel about walking around a little bit? Seeing the city at night?”

“That sounds amazing.”

Wandering through the New York streets with Steve and Doger was better than Evie could have imagined. He held her hand the entire time, pointing out different stores and shops, bumping his hip playfully against hers, running through crosswalks when the white light lit up aand tugging her along for the ride.

“Have you ever been here?” Evie asked, pulling them to a stop outside a dingy looking coffee shop. Steve’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead.

“I don’t think so,” he said slowly, eyes scanning over the rough brick exterior, the blinking fluorescent lights offering 24 hour espresso, the foggy and dirty windows.

“It’s one my favorite coffee shops. Come on.” Evie nudged the chipped wood door open with her hip and walked inside. The scratched hardwood floors were littered with different types of chairs, ranging from worn leather recliners to four legged seats with hard plastic seats that creaked when you sat down. It smelled like dark coffee and faintly of cigarettes, and Evie inhaled deeply, feeling at home. She tugged Steve to the menu board and leaned against his arm, their fingers still linked, looking over the different types of fair trade roasts and espressos.

“Their salted caramel latte is really good,” she said, turning her head to rest her chin on Steve’s arm. “But I don’t know how you like your coffee.”

“I usually just do black,” he said, still looking at the menu, his fingers tightening around Doger’s leash.

A girl with chopped platinum blonde hair slid behind the register and grinned underneath a bejeweled septum piercing.

“You guys have any questions about anything?” she asked, folding her bracelet laden arms on the counter. “Our special tonight is the Hot Momma Mocha.” She grinned when Steve gawked at her. “It’s espresso with our Mexican chocolate, cinnamon, and milk. I’ll give you half off if you somehow manage not to bust through that shirt, Muscles.”

The tips of Steve’s ears burned bright red and Evie cackled; he elbowed her in the ribs, shaking his head as she snickered louder.

“Do you guys have just black coffee?”

The girl nodded and pointed to the other end of the counter where a row of coffee dispensers next to baskets full of brown packets of raw sugar, honey, Stevia, and just a regular shaker of granulated sugar.

“I’ll take a medium coffee then. And whatever this one would like.” He smiled down at Evie, so much warmth and affection that her face flushed and she couldn’t bare to look at him. The girl slid Steve a wide white mug stained with watercolors, something deep enough to maybe eat soup out of in the right weather. Evie ordered her signature, a small mocha with whipped cream and an extra pump of chocolate. She jammed her hand into her pocket to fish out her wallet, but Steve was already handing the cashier a crisp ten dollar bill, eyeing the tip jar and dropping a twenty to the top of the stack.

“Jesus, Muscles,” the cashier said, stepping behind the espresso machine and brewing Evie’s coffee. “Usually I have to take my top of for a tip like that.”

Steve blushed again and mumbled something about the note stuck to the top of the jar telling customers the tips would be going to the local women’s shelter.

“Uh huh. You’re just trying to impress your date, I get it.”

He sputtered, blushing harder, and she laughed good naturedly. “Don’t worry, I’m just giving you shit. Let me know if you need milk or anything with your coffee.”

She slid Evie a steaming mug topped with a foamy mountain of whipped cream, complete with a chocolate drizzle, and smiled warmly at the two of them. Steve made his way down the counter, filling his mug with a dark roast and half of a shake of sugar and humming contently as he sipped it.

Evie stared at him.

“What?” he asked, nodding his head towards a tiny round table framed by two plump leather chairs. Doger’s nails clipped against the floor as they walked over; he turned himself in a tight circle before lying down at Steve’s feet, resting his head on his front paws.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”

“I don’t know how you drink _that.”_ He nodded towards Mount Whipped Deliciousness.

“First of all, how dare you.” Evie scooped a dollop of whipped cream onto her finger and licked it off, acutely aware of how Steve’s pupils expanded. “Second of all, don’t think I don’t see you all lusty over there.”

She thought he’d blush, stutter out an apology and look away, the way he had when the cashier had flirted with him. But no, of course he didn’t. Instead, he leaned forward, the top of his dress shirt dipping open to reveal his jutting collarbones, his face inches from hers across the small tabletop. He smirked, _fucking smirked,_ a wiped his thumb against the corner of her mouth, catching a spot of stray whipped cream.

“Are you going to clean yourself up?” he asked, his voice husky, sending shivers up Evie’s spine. “Or am I going to have to do it for you?”

 _Holy shit._ Evie blinked, circling her fingers around his wrist and sucking his thumb between her lips, softly licking against the pad of his finger with the tip of her tongue. He tasted clean, like salt and the sweetness of the cream, his eyes darkening as he watched her lips tighten around his finger.

“What am I going to do with you?” he rumbled, cupping her chin and popping his thumb out of her mouth, stroking it against her lips and spreading her spit.

“Whatever you want,” she murmured back, pressing soft kisses to his fingers as he slid them against her lips.

“Whatever I want, huh?” His eyes wandered down her body, pausing at the buttons hiding her breasts, teeth chewing his lower lip. Evie tried not to focus on the way his square jaw flexed with the movement. “I’m not sure if you’re up for that, baby doll.”

Evie bit back a moan at the nickname, heat zinging down her spine and making her legs clench under the table. She was dimly aware that they were in public, somewhat acknowledging the fact that they were a few late night coffee drinkers milling around them, but she couldn’t force herself to stop what was happening, to be embarrassed and back off. Steve was absorbing every ounce of her attention, of her focus, his gaze and touch hypnotic.

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Steve pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, his dark eyes boring into hers. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the intensity of his gaze. “Let’s sit here, drink our coffee, talk a little, then I’ll let you see if you can keep up, hmm?”

She tried not to chug her coffee, she really did, but the promise of something happening, of potentially seeing the rippling muscles Steve hid under his clothes, of getting to _touch them_ , made her squirmy and anxious to be anywhere even remotely private with him. He watched her trying to rush through her drink with a wry smile, patiently sipping his own coffee while she practically vibrated in her chair.

 _Finally,_ after what seemed like hours, Steve set his empty mug down and stood, holding his hand out for Evie and wrapping his arm tight around her waist as she unstuck her butt from the chair. The cashier gave them a knowing wave as they left, and Evie couldn’t help but blush. The air outside the coffee shop was cool, the New York breeze even colder, and Steve shrugged out of his suit jacket to wrap it around Evie’s shoulders; it smelled the same as it had the first night they met, like mint and pine needles. The chill helped cool the blush burning Evie’s face, helped clear her head as Steve led them back to her car.

Yes, Steve was a complete gentleman and she was no doubt falling hard, despite the warnings and the age difference. He just- he was so personable, so kind and warm and genuine. He actually listened when she spoke, offering a laugh or comment, an encouragement to keep her talking; they connected on so many different levels, relating easily even though Steve was so much older. It just felt _right._

But did that mean she should jump into bed with him? Was this going to be something where they fooled around, maybe fucked, and she never heard from him again?

Evie circled through the different scenarios all the way to Steve’s car, chewing her lip and nervously biting off the extra skin, her fingers twisting around and around her necklace as she thought.

“I had a really nice time tonight.” Steve’s deep voice jolted her from her thoughts, Doger’s breath warm against her cheek as Steve parked in front of her apartment. Oh shit. How had they already made it home?

“I’ll walk you to your door, if that’s okay?” he offered, already popping his door open. Evie nodded and clambered out, patting Doger’s head before shutting the door. Steve linked his fingers through hers, swinging their joined hands between them, smiling down at her.

“I”m sorry if I was out of line of the coffee shop,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I just- I couldn’t stop myself. You looked so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around my thumb. I couldn’t help it.”

“You might not have noticed, but I kind of like it,” she teased, slowing them to a stop as they stepped to the door of her apartment. Steve smiled and turned to face her, eyes flickering up to her forehead and brushing a stray curl away from her face.

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked, his voice soft, hesitant almost, and Evie just about melted on the spot. Her brain functioned long enough for her to nod, her cheeks flushing hot as Steve lifted both hands to cup her face, his palms big and rough, his long fingers twirling into the hair behind her ears. He leaned closer, eyes searching her face for any second thoughts, before his lips were on hers and everything just… stopped.

His lips were soft and warm, just a little wet in the center with saliva, his breath heated and minty across her face as their lips moved together. He kissed sweetly, his touch gentle, his thumbs stroking over her cheekbones like he was scared she would break any second. His beard scraped lightly against her chin, a slight, stinging pain to contrast the softness of his lips.

Evie was 99.999% sure her eyes were glazed over when he pulled back, breaking the kiss and looking every bit as wrecked as flushed as she felt.

“Maybe just, one more?” she breathed, looping her arms around his neck and spreading her fingers through the silky hairs at the base of his skull. “For the road?”

“Yeah.” He sounded breathless, his body shifting forward to mold against hers. “Wouldn’t want my lips getting cold.”

She hummed and closed her eyes, tilting her head as Steve’s hands dropped to her waist, gripping her tight and hauling her in for another kiss, the one drastically different than the first. Steve lifted on hand, cupping the back of her head in his palm and standing up straight, the arm around her waist tightening until he was supporting all her weight on one arm. Evie moaned, her feet lifting off the ground until Steve backed them into the wall next to the front door, her back riding against the siding. He grunted in return, wedging a thick thigh between her legs and pressing their fronts together, the hard line of his dick grinding against her thigh.

Evie tried not to whine when he pulled back, catching his lower lip between her teeth and pulling him back in; Steve moaned, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers across Evie’s entire body, her hips stuttering against his leg, heat pooling in her stomach and racing through her veins.

 _Jesus_ the way he kissed her. All teeth and tongue, his beard scratching along her chin and cheeks, his breath and body radiating heat and sex and the smell of pine needles. She whined, high and long, as his hand moved from her head to her chest, her tits filling his palms easily, her nipples puckering through her bra.

“Steve,” she panted as he moved from her lips to her neck, her head knocking back into the wall. He kissed the line of her jaw, his lips hot and wet, his tongue darting out to lick her pulse point, his beard leaving the best kind of burn. “Holy fucking _shit.”_

“You know, Eves, you should really watch your language. Some of our neighbors have kids.”

“Clint!”

Steve stumbled out of her grasp, wiping a hand across the back of his mouth, his face and ears bright red. His hair was mussed, a few strands hanging down into his face, and his shirt was rumbled and untucked in the back from Evie tugging on it. Evie knew she wasn’t much better, her hair a mess, chest heaving as she tried to straighten her clothes, her neck and face flushed with beard burn.

“Hey, uh, Steve? You got some lipstick…” Clint, leaning casually in the open doorway like he hadn’t just interrupted the best make out session of Evie’s life, gestured towards the corner of his own mouth, smirking as Steve swore and wiped away the lipstick smudging his already red mouth.

“I just came out here to see who’s car was in the driveway,” he continued innocently. “Didn’t know I’d be interrupting something.”

Steve cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair, biting his kiss swollen lips and looking like he wanted to either disappear or drag Evie to bed. She was in favor of the latter.

“I- Sorry, Clint,” he said, shoving his hands into his pants pockets in an attempt to look smaller. All it did was call attention to the boner bulging against his zipper. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Evie?”

“That- that sounds great.”

He nodded, swaying on his feet for a second before walking back up to her and pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll call you,” he said again, waving a little as he made his way to his car.

As soon as he rounded the corner, Evie swung a hard left hook into Clint’s arm, glaring at him as he laughed.

“You fucker! You fucking knew you were interrupting!”

“Nat, I was right!” he called back into the house gleefully. He swung an arm around Evie’s shoulders and led them both inside. “You owe me five bucks!”

Evie was going to kill them both. Once she regained feeling in her legs, that is.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this lovely picture of Chris! More chapters to be added soon!! 
> 
> https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-toronto-ontario-canada-12th-sep-2014-actordirector-chris-evans-attends-73415020.html


	4. Daddy Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie reveals her secret kink which causes Steve to reveal his.   
> Clint finds out a secret about Steve that makes him almost piss himself. Because when isn't Clint Barton excited enough to pee his pants?   
> (Also some sexy stuff at the end)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit shorter, but I kind of worked through all my ideas for it, so enjoy! Hope to have the next chapter up soon(:

_ Steve just kept buying her things.  _ Their second date, he pulled a black velvet box out of his pinstripe pant leg, the inside glittering with rose gold diamond earrings. Their third date, it was a dozen blush pink roses, wrapped together with white ribbon. 

“Oh, my god, Steve,  _ stop _ ,” she whined, smacking her face on the table in front of her as he pulled a bag of her favorite peanut butter caramel corn out of his bag. 

“What?” he asked innocently, sliding the candy across her poor excuse for a dining room table towards her. “Okay, the store was on my way here and I couldn’t help myself.” 

“You said that about the roses,” she grumbled, sticking her tongue out at his smirk when she accepted the bag. “I’m starting to not believe you.” 

He shrugged, lifting a friendly salute as Nat and Clint came into the kitchen. Clint clapped him on the shoulder and Nat smiled, actually smiled, and Evie visibly relaxed in her seat. Steve’s speech to her roommates seemed to have gone over well, convincing Nat he was a good guy, instead of offending her like Evie was worried it would. Since then, the red head had dropped her cold shoulder attitude, finally giving Steve a chance. Her and Clint were fine with him coming over, Clint gleefully showing her his noise cancelling headphones so they could “bang as loud as you want! I won’t hear shit.” Their only stipulation was that he brought Doger every now and then, to which Steve laughed and explained his epilepsy and that the cuddly dog was also a necessity. 

“Hey, don’t forget rent is due next week,” Nat said, stealing a piece of Evie’s notebook paper and peeking into the fridge. “Clint and I are gonna go grocery shopping later, if you wanna come. I know you’ve got, like, no food in here.” She gestured to Evie’s sliver of milk and the single tortilla sitting in the drawer.

“Shit, I forgot about rent,” Evie groaned, pulling up her bank account information on her laptop and chewing the inside of her cheek. This week was payday, and she’d been working a decent amount, but the tips were getting shitty, and her boss kept cutting her hourly wage, claiming he didn’t need to pay female bartenders as much because they made it up in tips. Which wasn’t true or legal, she was sure, but she needed the job too much to argue. If she moved her paycheck into her savings, she’d have just enough to cover rent with the money from the jar she’d been stuffing her tips into. But that left less than ten bucks left for groceries and utilities. 

“When are utilities due?” she asked, scribbling the numbers out in her notebook. 

“Two weeks, I think.” 

She nodded and crunched the numbers, completely unaware to Steve watching her, and tried not to cry at the measly five dollars she’d have left sitting in her account after everything. She could make that work, right? She usually could convince whoever was in the kitchen at work to fix her something for free, so that mostly covered meals.She didn’t have enough milk left for cereal, but she could always put the remaining bit of her Cheerios in a bag and call it breakfast. She’d just have to drink more water than usual so she didn’t get hungry. She could make five bucks stretch two weeks. 

“Are you two coming with?” Clint asked, grabbing his keys off the counter and spinning them around his finger. 

Evie shook her head and flipped to a new page in her notebook, hiding the numbers, and pulled her Chemistry book closer. It was second hand and beat up enough that the binding couldn’t hold the pages together, but it’d been dirt cheap, and it still worked well enough. 

“Too much homework,” she lied, gesturing to the pile of notes in front of her. 

Clint shrugged, patting her on the head as him and Nat headed out. 

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked after a couple minutes of silence, his gaze never leaving Evie’s face despite her attempts to ignore him. He set his pencil down on top of the paperwork he was scratching through and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over the wide expanse of his chest. The movement made his navy v-neck sweater stretch across his shoulders, highlighting the delicious curves of his biceps.

“Sure, go ahead.” 

He hesitated before, “Do you struggle with money?” 

“What?” Evie’s head snapped up so fast her neck cracked. “No, of course I don’t. I work forty hours a week at the bar. I’m fine.” 

“I’m not trying to piss you off.” He reached across the table to hold her hand. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.” 

“I just don’t have a lot for extra shit,” she said, shrugging and not meeting his painfully sincere eyes. 

“Do groceries count as extra shit? Because those are a necessity.” 

“Just because I can’t afford the organic stuff you can doesn’t mean-,” 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Steve’s voice was calm and level. “You told me the other day that your boss isn’t paying you as much, and I saw that paper. How much are you going to have left for groceries at the end of the month?” 

“I’m fine, Steve. Really.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question.” 

She sighed and buried her face in her hands, already feeling a headache pounding behind her eyes. 

“I’ll have an extra five bucks left.” 

Steve pulled her hands into his and planted warm kisses on each of her fingers, his eyes soft and focused on hers. 

“I want to buy you groceries for the month. Stop, just let me finish,” he said as Evie opened her mouth to argue. “It’s not charity, or because I feel bad for you, or anything like that. I  _ want  _ to. I like taking care of you. So don’t think of this as me doing something for you. Think of it as you making me feel good, making me happy. I have more than enough money to buy you groceries, and I’d really, really like to.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m only going out with you because of your money.” 

“I don’t think that.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. “I’m not entirely sure why you’re with me, but I know it’s not because of my money. Let me do this for you?” 

He gave her the most pathetic, heart wrenching puppy dog eyes, pouting his lower lip and blinking up at her from under his dark lashes. She groaned and face planted into her Chem book, grunting out a muffled, “ _ Fine.”  _

And that’s how they ended up at Whole Foods, Steve trying not to laugh as Evie ogled at the rows and rows and rows of fresh vegetables and fruits. 

“We usually just go to that mini mart by Ninth,” she said, floored. “They just have a couple cartons of strawberries, maybe some broccoli, but that’s it.” 

“That’s a sin.” Steve nudged her with his hip, encouraging her forward. “Get whatever you want. The price doesn’t matter, okay? Don’t even worry about it.” 

He was patient as they shopped, rolling his eyes as Evie loaded their cart with off brand products and swapping them out for name brand when she wasn’t looking. He encouraged her to get anything she needed, from fresh baked bread to any spices she thought she’d need, to shaved turkey  _ from the deli.  _ She hadn’t had meat from a deli since before she moved to school. 

Evie watched the green numbers blipping on the checkout screen before Steve huffed and covered her eyes with one big hand, resting his chin on her shoulder and filling her nose with the scent of pine needles and whatever detergent he used. The cufflink of the white dress shirt he had tucked under his sweater was cool against her cheek, his sweater soft and smooth. It felt like the one blanket her grandma had never let anyone use, the expensive cashmere one she’d bought traveling once and used only as a bragging piece. Steve  _ would _ wear a cashmere sweater to a grocery store. 

He didn’t let her see the total, sliding his card through the machine and signing his name with a flourish. He grinned at the swooning cashier and grabbed the bags, handing Evie the loaf of bread and loading his arms with the rest. 

“Thank you,” he said, kissing her cheek as they shut the trunk after loading the groceries. “For letting me do that for you.” 

“Thank  _ you.”  _ She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest, his arms coming up to hold her automatically. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” he insisted, kissing her temple and making his way to her ear, tugging on the lobe with his teeth. “Trust me. I love getting to take care of you.” He cupped her chin in his hand, pressing a hard, wet kiss to her lips before pulling back. 

They clambered back into the car, Steve helping her carry in and put away the groceries, cooing softly to Diana as she wound between their legs. 

“So I realized something,” Evie said as they sat back down at the kitchen table, Steve shifting his papers around. 

“What’s that?” 

She opened her mouth as Clint banged through the front door, an Amazon box clutched in his hands, a grocery laden Natasha staggering behind him. 

“It’s here!” he cried, racing to the kitchen and ripping into the box as Evie stood to help Nat with the bags. 

“What’s here?” she asked, taking a bag of (Clint’s) frozen pizzas off Nat’s arm. 

“The newest Hawkeye comic,” Clint gushed, pulling a thick comic from the depths of his box. The cover was splattered with different shades of purple and black, the heroic archer posing with his bow next to his lab, Lucky. “Shield just released it a couple days ago and all the reviews online say it’s the best one yet.”

Nat rolled her eyes. 

“I think I can personally blame this Steve G. Rogers guy for ruining both my relationship and sex life,” she deadpanned, dropping the groceries to the floor heavily. 

Wait. Evie’s head whipped to where Steve was sitting, his neck, ears, and face flushed bright red, his back and shoulders tense. 

“Steve, that’s-,” 

“I think I should go,” he blurted, grabbing his papers and hurriedly stuffing them in his bag. A manilla folder toppled out in his hurry, a stack of papers sliding to the floor covered in a rough sketch of the picture plastered on the cover Clint was holding. 

A loopy signature at the bottom read  _ Steven Grant Rogers _ . 

There was a beat of silence before Clint started yelling. 

“ **_You’re fucking Steve Rogers and you didn’t tell anyone?_ ** ” he screamed, clutching his comic to his chest. “ **_I’ve been reading your comics since I was nine!_ ** ” 

“It’s really not a big deal-,” 

“You’re a hero! You created the first deaf superhero! The first lesbian superhero! You- you made Captain America a national icon!” 

“There’s an entire team of artists that work together on the art-,” 

“After you’ve drawn it. Nat, he hand draws each panel for every page for every comic. He’s a legend. Nobody does art like him, and  _ he’s standing in our kitchen.”  _

Evie stared as Clint rambled. She knew Steve was some sort of artist, but she had no idea to what extent. Clint gushed daily about Shield and their diverse set of characters, how they were breaking stereotypes and boundaries, but she’d never connected the Shield Clint obsessed over and the Shield Steve had mentioned on their first date. 

Steve was getting more and more red, his hands trembling before he grabbed the back of a kitchen chair, the wood rattling in his grip. She could see his chest starting to rise and fall faster than normal and cut Clint off. 

“Well I’m just offended you didn’t tell me your full name was Steven.” She wrapped both arms around his waist and looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest, taking slow, even breaths for him to match with. “I could’ve been calling you Steven this whole time.” 

A shaky smile curled his lips. 

“Only my ma calls me Steven,” he croaked, resting his heavy arms on her shoulders and touching his forehead to hers. “But I kinda like it when you say it.” 

“Steven, Steven, Steven,” she sang, making a chuckle rumble from deep in his chest. He kissed her nose and took a deep breath, his gaze grateful. He glanced at his watch and groaned. 

“I should actually be getting home,” he said, frowning. “I have to feed the dogs and take them for a walk.” 

He sighed and cleaned up his papers, smiling dryly at Clint and Nat and Evie walked him out. 

“I’m really sorry about Clint.” 

“It’s alright. It’s the nice thing about being a comic illustrator- no one ever recognizes you. It just makes me anxious, stuff like that. All the attention being on me. I hate it.” 

Evie rubbed his back, pulling him into a hug once he dumped his bag onto the front seat. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” she murmured into a facefull of cashmere pectoral muscles. “I’ll tell him not to do it again.” 

“I’d really appreciate that. I know it’s kind of a pain, but it just gets overwhelming, especially without Doger here…” 

“Consider it done,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. 

Steve hummed, bringing his hands out to hold her hips, his fingers curling delicately over the bones like they were made to fit there. He angeled his head, swiping his tongue across Evie’s lower lip before sucking it into his mouth, biting just hard enough to make her whine. She slid both her arms down his chest, feeling the tight muscles clench, her fingers bumping on every ridge and line of his torso. Jesus, he was perfect. Miles of muscles that shifted and flexed every time he moved, his beard leaving the most delicious burn on her cheeks, his tongue hot and wet, battling with hers. 

Part of her wondered what the beard burn would feel like between her legs. 

The sheer thought of it made her moan, Steve’s hand clenching on her hips at the sound, dragging her closer so their fronts were pressed together. She could feel the hard line of his dick through his slacks and ground against him, desperate for contact and friction. 

Steve broke the kiss, a deep moan rumbling in his chest, his lips wet and pressing a line of open mouthed kisses down the side of her throat. 

“We have to stop,” he moaned, grinding harder against her anyway. “We have to stop, or I’m going to fucking bend you over the hood of my car and take you from behind.” 

“Do it,” Evie whined, fingers reaching up to tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. “Do it. Want the neighbors to watch how good you’ll fuck me.” 

His hips stuttered against hers, his entire body wracking with trembles, his breath hot against her skin. 

“Yeah?” he panted, leaning back against the passengers side door and bracing himself so she could lean her full weight on him. “Want them to watch me fucking you? Fucking Christ, Evie, I’d fuck you so good, make you come all over my fancy car while everybody watched.” 

Her next words just kind of… Slipped out. 

“ _ Fuck yes, do it, daddy. Please.”  _

Steve choked on a moan, his hips jerking until Evie felt a warm wet spot spreading from where they were grinding together, his chest heaving. She leaned back to look at him, at his pink cheeks, glazed over, hooded eyes.

“You can’t just- you can’t just say stuff like that,” he groaned, wiping a hand down his face. 

“Did you just…?” 

“Come in my pants like a fucking fourteen year old? Yes, I did.” 

Evie covered her mouth to hide the fact it was hanging open. 

“You have a daddy kink,” she whispered gleefully. Steve had the audacity to blush and Evie wanted to cry from happiness. Brock had laughed in her face when she tried to bring up that particular kink, throwing it back in her face and mocking her, making baby kissing noises and asking her if she wanted a bottle. But that wasn’t it  _ at all.  _ It was sexy, the thought of trusting someone to take care of you, to handle making decisions for the time being, to just let go and know someone was there to catch you and keep you safe. Brock had been into the tying up part of BDSM, fully willing to handcuff Evie to the bed but fully unwilling to provide a check in, or any sort of after care. He’d finish, toss out the condom, and roll away to scroll through his phone, or get something to eat, leaving her in a fucked up, negative subspace for hours. 

She could already tell Steve was going to be different. 


	5. The Best Presents are Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!  
> Near the end of the chapter, there's some serious talk of sexual abuse and past rape. If that makes you uncomfortable or anxious, please don't read it. I just wanted to let everyone know that it's there!  
> Thanks!!

“Have you seen him draw yet?”

“No, Clint.”

“Has he told you anything about the next comics? Any of them. Hawkeye, Winter Soldier, Captain America? Anything?”

“I don’t ask him about his work,” Evie said, measuring out a cup and a half of flour and slowly mixing it into her creamed (ew) sugar and butter and eggs.

“Is it weird if I ask for a signature next time he’s over?”

“Yes.” She left the batter to mix and started greasing her cookie sheet, trying to ignore the way Clint was bouncing from foot to foot, looking every bit like a kid about to meet their favorite Disney character. “Clint, it makes him anxious when you do stuff like that. He’s just a regular guy with a regular job.”

“A regular guy that created comic book characters I’ve been obsessed with since before puberty.”

Evie glared at him as she yanked their cutting board onto the counter, rolling a lemon under her palm before grating it into the resting dough, then cutting it in half and juicing it into the dough, too. Steve had mentioned his weakness for lemon sugar cookies the week before, and Evie knew he’d been having a rough couple of days. He’d woken up to a seizure Monday morning instead of his alarm, Doger barking panicked cries into his ear the entire time. He’d had to take the rest of the day off, to anxious and shaken up to make it to the office. Which, of course, had all but sent the workaholic in him into a panic attack, and supposedly sent him _sooooo_ behind schedule he’d forced himself to go to work three hours early the next day. She’d texted him nothing but angry faced emojis the whole day.

He’d been going in early and staying late every day this week, barely getting any sleep and pushing himself to the brink of insanity. Evie knew how important his company was to him, how much he loved his job, but he was going to work himself sick if he didn’t at least try to slow down.

Hence the cookies. She’d Googled the address of Shield’s office and gleefully found a cheap subway that would take her to the heart of Manhattan, only a couple of blocks from Steve’s building. Her class for the day had gotten cancelled, meaning she had until her shift at nine to surprise him, maybe help take some of the stress out of his hands.

“Look, I love you, and I know Shield means a lot to you. But if you’re going to freak out every time Steve comes over, I’m going to stop bringing him here. He wants to relax when he’s here, Clint. He deals with his job all day and this is one of the few places he can get fully away from it. Does that make sense?”

Clint visibly deflated, but he nodded.

“I’ll try to get all my fangirling out of the way before he gets here next time,” he mumbled. Evie paused her scooping of the dough into perfect little rounds to give him a hug.

“Thank you. Really. It means a lot to me.”

He shrugged one shoulder and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her to finish the cookies and layer them gentle in a plastic container. She brewed one of her hazelnut coffee pods and added half a shake of sugar into the travel mug, gathering all her goodies, her phone, wallet, and purse to make her way to the station.

The ride to Steve’s building was quick, a little crowded, but that was New York. She could smell the lemony goodness wafting from her container, the little granules of sugar sparkling in the dim subway lighting. She slipped out of the station at her stop and pulled up the map to Shield, plugging her headphones into her phone so she could hear the GPS directing her where to walk.

She swallowed hard as she came up to a tall building glittering with glass windows, the word Shield spelled out in big letters across the top of the entry way.

_Here goes nothing._

The inside of the building was just as daunting as the outside, smooth tile floors clicking with high heels as people in business suits and pencil skirts scurried by her, muttering into ear pieces or scanning ID tags as they went. She couldn’t have felt more out of place in her skinny jeans and mustard yellow top; she thought it was cute, the dark blue contrasting with the yellow, the long sleeves tapered at the elbow and fanning out into a bell-bottomed curve. She’d matched it with cream and navy strappy sandals, smearing on some mascara and letting her hair curl naturally. But now? She just felt underdressed.

She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, walking to what looked like a front desk near the back of the lobby. A man with a headset looked up from his computer at her, waiting for her to stay something.

“Um, hi,” she started, already blushing and embarrassed. “I’m here to see Steve Rogers?”

“Do you know what department he works in?” the guy asked, sounding bored and already poking at his keyboard.

“Development, I think? He’s an artist. Maybe creation?”

The guy huffed and scanned an ID badge under a red light before clipping it to a thin black lanyard and shoving it towards her.

“This will give you access to the elevators. Generation is the 14th floor. The receptionist up there will help you. Thank you for visiting Shield Comics.”

“Uh, thanks.” She glanced around the room, looking for the elevators, before the guy huffed again and pointed towards a wall to his left. Lined with elevator doors.

She gripped her cookies and coffee a little tighter, timidly walking into the elevator and staring blankly at the row of numbers. None of them were lit, not even by a back light, and there was a thin opening underneath them with a tiny red button next to it. Chewing her lip, Evie shoved the ID card into the mouth and pressed the button, sighing as the numbers lit up and the elevator hummed a little. She slammed the button for the 14th floor and waited.

The 14th floor was… huge. Evie gulped as the doors opened, regretting her decision to surprise Steve more and more. A wide receptionists desk sat in front of a wall of windows, rows of boxy cubicles arranged on the other side. But it looked like each cube only had one or two walls, just enough to give the person their own space without boxing them in and closing them off. Each of the windows had drawings on it in some sort of window marker, the images ranging from loose doodles to a life size picture of Captain America in his spangly stars and stripes, a speech bubble near his head reading _‘Cap thanks you for your service! Peggy thanks you with your paycheck!’_

She recognized the loopy handwriting and couldn’t help but smile.

“Hi there!” The receptionist greeted her warmly, a wide smile spreading across her heart shaped face. Her name tag read Wanda, with a sticker of what Evie vaguely recognized as the Scarlet Witch in the corner. “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m here to see Steve Rogers.”

Wanda nodded and pulled a clipboard on her desk closer to herself so she could read it. “Do you have an appointment?”

_Shit._

“Um, no, actually.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t let you back to see Mr. Rogers without an appointment. I’d be happy to schedule one with you, though.”

“I just- my name is Evie Montgomery?” she tried desperately. “I was hoping to surprise him.”

Wanda’s dark eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

“ _You’re_ Evie?” she asked, practically knocking her chair over as she stood to pull Evie into a hug over the desk, almost crushing the cookies and spilling the coffee. “Steve hasn’t shut up about you for weeks! I’m so glad to finally meet you. I’m Wanda.”

Steve talked about her at work? To his stunningly beautiful and kind of intimidating receptionist?

Wanda must have seen her confusion, because she laughed, tossing a long lock of loosely curled reddish brown hair over her shoulder.

“You’re all he talks about,” she said, moving out from behind the desk and gesturing for Evie to follow her behind the wall of decorated windows. “Which is so unlike him. He’s usually super closed off at work, keeps all his personal stuff at home, that kind of guy. He does his job, loves his job, but goes home at the end of the day and that’s it. But now? It’s like he can’t shut up about his personal life. It’s nice, to see him more relaxed.”

Evie just nodded along as Wanda chattered, the brunette leading her through the web of cubicles to a dark stained door with _Steve Rogers: Editor in Chief, Generation Department Head, Content Supervisor_ written in bold gold letters on the oval of glass in the center. Someone had scribbled ‘and major a-hole’ underneath all his titles in what looked like black Sharpie, accompanied by a series of tiny cartoon frowny and angry faces.

Wanda knocked on the door before nudging it open, poking her head inside.

“Hey, Steve? You have a visitor.”

“If it’s that lady from payroll, tell her I’m not in. Or that I’m dead. Maybe she’ll stop coming up here if I’m dead.” Steve’s rich voice wafted through the door and Evie’s stomach flipped over with excitement and nerves.

“Don’t worry, this one is cuter than Sheryl from payroll.” Wanda shifted out of the doorway and held the door open more, revealing the inside of Steve’s office. He had a heavy oak desk sitting in front of floor to ceiling windows looking out over the skyline, not unlike the ones in his apartment. The light stained hardwood (it kind of looked like Birch, if Evie had to guess) carried from the entire floor into his office, making the space feel big and open. He had sheets of paper with comic boxes layered on an easel next to his desk, some filled with art, others blank. All his degrees and accomplishments hung on the left wall, the right wall covered with sticky notes, pinned pieces of paper, scraps of drawings, and a framed copy of the first Captain America comic.

Steve was leaning on the front of his desk, clad in sinfully tight black dress pants, a crisp white dress shirt, and a skinny black tie, complete with a shiny silver tie clip. One of his ankles was crossed in front of the other and he glanced up from under his ridiculously long lashes as Wanda opened the door.

Evie shyly waved as his mouth dropped open.

“Evie,” he breathed, blinking at her like he thought she would disappear. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you cookies. And coffee. Surprise.” She timidly stepped into his office and held out the containers; her hands were shaking, the cookies rattling a little, before Steve covered her hands with his.

“I’ll tell Tony to wait on that Widow meeting,” Wanda said, closing the door slowly and waving. “It was really nice to meet you, Evie!”

The door clicked shut behind her and Steve pulled Evie into a bone crushing hug.

“Did you really come all the way here just to bring me cookies and coffee?” he asked, burying his face in her hair.

“Of course I did. You’ve been having a really hard week and I wanted to do something to make you feel better.” She wiggled in his grasp enough to wedge the cookie container between them and lifted the lid. “Lemon sugar cookies.”

“My favorite.” Steve nabbed one out of the box and bit into it, moaning and closing his eyes as he chewed. “These are so fucking good, babydoll.”

Evie blushed at the nickname, like she always did, and looked at her feet before replying.

“Anything for, uh.” She cleared her throat and forced the words she wanted out before she could overthink them. “Anything for you, Daddy.”

Steve’s chest rumbled happily against her head as she wormed back into his arms. He took the cookies and travel mug from her and set them on the desk behind him, wrapping both arms around her shoulders and gently rocking them back and forth.

“Is there another reason you wanted to see me today, hmm?” he asked, lips pressed to the top of her head. “Does my baby need something from her daddy?”

“Just missed you,” she murmured, closing her eyes and feeling the tension draining from them both. She didn’t know how Steve did it, rolling with the nickname she’d accidentally called him a week before, somehow knowing the exact way to respond and encourage her without seeming like he was putting on a front. He knew she didn’t want to be degraded, just taken care of, even though they’d barely discussed the changes happening in their relationship. They’d talked about it a little, Steve explaining how the power dynamic between them calmed him, helped him sort through his mind and feel more in control of his hectic life; Evie had agreed, opening up slightly about the way her mind raced, the two orange prescription bottles on her dresser labeled as antidepressants, and how sometimes she just needed someone else to call the shots, to make decisions so she didn’t have to.

They’d agreed to use their nicknames, daddy and babydoll, to communicate to the other when one of them wanted to start a scene, if they couldn’t get the words out. Judging the amount of stress Steve had been under lately, Evie was surprised he hadn’t asked for a scene earlier.

Steve rubbed his big palm along the expanse of her back, tucking her head under his chin, scooting his frustratingly bubbly butt back onto the desk so he could hold more of her weight.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much lately,” he rumbled. “There’s just been a lot going on over here, especially cause I had to take those days off.”

“It’s more than okay.” She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him from between his pecs. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good now.” He lifted his hand to lightly scratch his short nails against the base of her skull, fingers massaging slightly. “I have an appointment with my doctor soon, so I’ll let him know what happened.” He shrugged. “Having a seizure is always going to be a risk, no matter how much I try to control it. And I think that’s the worst part- not having control.”

“Hey, you’re in control now, and that’s what matters.” She squeezed his waist and kissed his chest. “It’s still your body, still you. It just likes to wiggle on it’s own sometimes.”

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head fondly and planting a sweet row of dry kisses all over her face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone refer to seizing as _wiggling_ ,” he snorted, smiling his eye crinkling grin, the last bit of tension releasing from his wide shoulders. “I like it.”

“Good.” Evie puckered her lips for a kiss and Steve quickly complied.

“So,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose after her lips. “Do you want a tour? I won’t take you through the whole building, mostly cause it’s huge and I’m hiding from payroll cause I gave my entire staff an unapproved raise, but I can show you some things.”

“I’d love that.”

He grinned and grabbed her hand, scooping the travel mug of coffee off the desk and walking them out of his office.

“So these are my people.” He waved a hand to gesture the length of the floor and the people shifting and working in their weird cubicles. Evie was surprised to hear the scratch of pencils and pens filling the space, some low, happy chatter, instead of the click of keyboards. “A lot of what we do in this sector is fan based. Reading reviews, keeping track of what people want, replying to letters. There’s a whole system we have to compare how people are feeling about each character, their villain, their plots, that kind of thing.”

“So these people aren’t all the ones making comics?”

Steve shook his head and tugged her to another part of the floor, smiling and lifting a hand to a couple of employees that happily called his name.

“There’s actually just a small group of us that work on storyboards, and then I’m one of two people that do sketching. With too many people creating, the art can start to look different from panel to panel. With just Buck and I doing it, the art and style stays the same and keeps everything clean and consistent.”

“Yeah, but that puts a lot of stress on you guys, if you’re the only ones drawing. You guys release stuff like crazy.”

He shrugged and opened his mouth when a loud, “Rogers!” burst from behind them. He groaned and turned them around, frowning as a shorter man with dark hair and a smoothly trimmed goatee marched up to them, dressed smartly in what looked like a three piece suit.

“Hi, Tony.”

“Wanda says you postponed our meeting.”

“I did. I have a guest.”

The guy, Tony, leaned his entire body to the side to glance around Steve to look at Evie. He whistled and landed a sharp punch to Steve’s shoulder; Evie heard his knuckles crack and he pouted, cradling his hand while Steve didn’t even flinch.

“Tony Stark,” he said, extending his uninjured hand and kissing Evie’s when she extended it to him. “Didn’t know Stevie here had such beautiful women visiting all the time. Makes me wish I paid for attention to him.”

Steve sighed heavily. Tony ignored him.

“Evie Montgomery,” she said, awkwardly smiling as he kissed her hand again.

“Tony handles all of our public relations and ad campaigns,” Steve explained. “Which is code for him sitting on his computer and not doing shit until the night before the ad is due.”

Tony just grinned.

“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it, Stevie.”

“You almost didn’t make your deadline for the Winter Soldier release.”

“Hey, I’ll have you know my releases are perfectly timed.” Tony winked at her and Steve groaned again. “So, what’s your story, Evie Montgomery? Intern? Visiting relative? Another one of Steve’s beautiful women friends that he has no intention of ever sleeping with despite his friend Tony’s advice?”

 _“Tony.”_ Steve flushed bright red and glared at his friend.

“What? I’m just saying, you have a habit of surrounding yourself with beautiful women and then not doing anything about it. And if you’re not going to treat Evie there to a nice night, maybe I could.” He grinned widely. “Ever been to Paris?”

“Tony, Evie is my- my, uh-,”

“Girlfriend,” Evie finished for him, wrapping her arm around his skinny waist. She could feel the tight flex of his muscles through his dress shirt and had to bite the inside of her cheek. Tony’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Girlfriend, huh? And I didn’t even know you were talking to anyone,” he said, looking surprised. Steve chewed his lower lip and shrugged a little.

“Does Barnes know?” Tony asked skeptically. Steve blushed.

“He knows who she is,” he mumbled. “But not that we’re officially together.”

“Hmm.” Tony’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Well, continue your tour, then. I want to have that meeting before I leave for the day, though, Rogers. Bruce and I have no idea what you and Peggy want for this new ad.”

Steve nodded and Tony waved before walking away, shouting an invitation for Evie to join him on a private jet to Paris as he went. Steve visibly relaxed once the brunette man turned the corner, his shoulders dropping a little, the tendon he’d been working in his jaw retreating back into his neck.

“You okay?” Evie slid her fingers through his and squeezed. He smiled, eye crinkles and everything, and kissed her hand.

“Yeah. Tony’s just a lot to handle sometimes. I’m sorry about that.”

“I kinda liked him. He’s spunky.”

He laughed and tugged her hand, walking her through the different areas of the floor, showing her Tony’s office, a colorful explosion of computer screens and electrical tape, from a distance before leading her back to his own office. He shut the door with a soft click and turned to face her, the black of his pupils already expanding into the surrounding blue.

He slowly started closing the space between them, unhooking the cuffs of her shirt and rolling them easily to his sleeves, revealing thick tanned forearms littered with light blue veins and popping tendons and his reflective silver watch. Evie had Googled pictures of it, just for fun, and had almost had an aneurysm at the price. Pushing his fingers into her hair, Steve rested his forehead against hers and kissed the tip of her nose.

“I’m really glad you came to see me,” he murmured, his voice no higher than a low rumble. His thumbs stroked against her flushed cheeks as he kissed down the side of her face, teeth clipping her jaw before he flicked his tongue against the indents they’d left. “Wearing these tight little jeans, no less.”

He dropped his hands and groped her ass, filling his palms with a cheek each and squeezing hard; Evie muffled a moan into his dress shirt.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet, sweetheart,” he purred, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind her ear and making her knees start to shake. It was taking every ounce of her willpower not to collapse into his arms, fall on her knees and rip his stupid Armani belt open. His breath was so hot against her skin, setting her on fire from the inside out while he mumbled filthy things between searing kisses. She could already feel the lace thong she’d doned in the name of no panty lines starting to get wet, her stomach clenching at Steve’s cooing.

She squeezed her eyes shut and slapped a hand tight over her mouth, knocking her head back and biting into her fingers to silence the high pitched moan she let out; Steve just chuckled and tugged the front of her shirt down slightly to suck a bruise onto her collarbone.

“Better keep quiet, sugar,” he purred, scratching his beard against her skin, leaving tingles down her spine. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking we’re up to something indecent.”

Evie whined in the back of her throat, Steve’s hands climbing her ribs to cup a handful of her breasts in each hand, his thumbs stroking over the hard bud of her nipple through her shirt and the thin lace of her bra.  He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it and backing her up so her ass bumped against the lip of his desk. Without breaking their kiss, he dropped one hand and cupped just under her ass, lifting her easily to sit on his desk with her legs wrapped tight around his waist. Swiping his hand out, he knocked a stack of papers onto the floor and leaned Evie back, tugging her hips forward so her hips hovered over the edge of the desk. Her back bent into a graceful curve as he kissed down her neck and over her covered chest, biting hungrily at her nipples through her shirt, her neck arching so her head rolled towards the ceiling, unable to do anything but moan and pant under his touch.

“So fucking pretty for your daddy,” he growled, tugging her shirt up to expose the flat line of her stomach, lips smearing across any strip of bare skin he could reach. His teeth clacked against her belly button ring and they both groaned, Steve’s thick fingers fiddling with the gold button to her pants.

“Wanna eat you out.” He tugged on the waistband of her pants and sunk his teeth into her jutting hip bone, sucking a dark bruise onto the skin. “Right here on my desk, all spread out and dripping on my work. God, I’d never get anything ever again. I’d just sit here and fuck my fist, think about your ass all bare on my desk, your thighs on my shoulders.”      

Evie’s legs shook as he easily swung them over his massive shoulders, his eyes dark and smoldering as he looked up at her from under his thick lashes, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her pants button before he started _unbuttoning it with his tongue_ , his heavy gaze never leaving hers. She groaned, the noise rising steadily in her throat as Steve tugged her fly open, licking the skin below her belly button and burying his nose into the strip of smooth skin above her thong. She’d never been more grateful to have worn cute underwear, a blush pink strip of fabric with lavender bows on the front, one on each side of her mound, perfectly framing the thin strip of hair she kept shortly shaved.

“St- Steve,” she said weakly, dropping her head back to look at the ceiling, her chest heaving, blinking rapidly to clear the fog in her head. _“Fuck-_ we can’t do this here.”

“Why not?” He pushed her shirt up over her ribs and started a mess of love bites, humming appreciatively as her pale skin marked easily, purple where his teeth clenched, red where his beard rubbed. “I’d love to take you apart like this, make a fucking mess of you and have you walk out of my office like nothing happened once we were finished. Would you like that?”

The word yes screamed at the back of Evie’s mind, every part of her itching to just give in, to let Steve tug her pants down and absolutely wreck her. But her eyes flickered to the closed, unlocked door and sighed, pushing the heel of her hand to her eyes and forcing herself to sit up. Steve looked up, his lips pressed to her hip in a tight pucker, his brows drawing together just slightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wiggling back a little to give her the space needed to sit up properly, her legs still hanging off the end of the desk even with the back of her knees on the edge.

“I just- I don’t want to do this here.” She hooked her ankles together and swung her legs a little, tugging her shirt back down and buttoning her pants. “I definitely want to do all that stuff, but not here, where anybody could walk in.”

Steve nodded as she spoke, lifting himself up to stand at full height and straightening his tie.

“Come to my place tonight?” he asked, running a hand absently through his slicked back hair. “You could hang out here until I finish these last few sketches, then would could get dinner together. Maybe some of that Chinese takeout we got last week?”

Evie pouted.

“I have to work tonight.”

“What time does the bar close? I could pick you up and bring you home with me, if you wanted.”

“We close at midnight since it’s the week, but I’m usually there till one cleaning and cashing out the register.”

Steve frowned a little, a tiny wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows.

“Plus I don’t have anything to stay at your place, and I have classes tomorrow.” She looped her arms around his waist and looked up at him. “How about this- what if I came over Friday after work? I have to work the day shift, so I’ll be done by six, and you’ll have me all to yourself for the whole night, and I have Saturday off.”

“That sounds perfect.” He kissed the tip of her nose, smiling warmly. “I think there’s a group of us getting together on Saturday for a cookout. Tony, Sam, Bucky, Thor, all the guys. You’re more than welcome to come.”

“I don’t want to intrude if it’s just the guys. Saturdays are for the boys, you know.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m too old to understand that reference,” he said. “And it won’t just be the guys. Wanda, the woman outside that you met, she’ll be there. And Thor’s girlfriend, Tony’s wife, Sams fiance. Lots of ladies.”

Evie laughed and shook her head. “If you want me to come, I’ll be there.”

“I’d love for you to come.” Steve pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and she couldn’t help but melt into it. It didn’t matter which way Steve kissed her- hot, soft, slow, fast- every single brush of his mouth against hers left her breathless, made her feel weightless and like everything around them was slowing to a stop. His lips were always so soft, plump and smooth like they’d never been chapped before in his life, the slightly wiry hair of his beard rubbing against her cheeks and nose. She thought she’d hate the beard; Brock had tried to grow one early into their relationship, refusing to take care of it or trim it until it ‘grew out’, leaving the hair and surround skin dry and rough. Not the best to make out with. Steve kept everything perfectly manicured, his skin blemish free except for the dark circles below his eyes, every hair on his head trimmed and thoroughly conditioned, smelling like musky shower gel and the clay pomade he used to style his hair. (Evie had found the metal tin on his bathroom counter when Steve had let her use his shower after a day in his buildings’ pool- _“I’m getting the guest bathroom retiled and it looks like shit in there without the quartz in the shower. Use my bathroom.”_ \- and promptly Googled the brand. $27 for the three ounce container, _and_ it was vegan and cruelty free. Like, _come on_ , Steve. How was the guy even real?)

He pulled away from the kiss as his desk phone rang, making a face and grabbing for the receiver without looking away from her.

“Rogers,” he said, sounding bossy and official enough to give Evie goosebumps. He listened for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shutting them, knocking his head back to look at the ceiling. Evie patiently fiddled with his tie. “No, Tony, we’re just talking. Feel free to go home, then. Just email me your new poster proposals and I’ll look at them tonight. We’ll have your god-forsaken meeting first thing tomorrow. I promise.”

Whatever Tony said back made Steve groan. “Goodnight, Tony. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He rolled his eyes again as he hung up, shaking his head.

“Everything okay?” Evie asked.

“Yeah, Tony’s just being his usual pain in my ass.”

She smiled sympathetically at him and rubbed her hands over his chest, glancing at the clock on the wall and wanting to pout all over again.

“I should probably go,” she said, making a face. “I have to be at work in about an hour, and the subways are probably ridiculously busy right now.”

“I can give you a ride,” Steve offered. Evie didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to his unfinished work.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind the subway.” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and hopped off the desk.

“I’ll walk you out.” Steve nudged his door open and walked her to the elevators by Wanda’s desk, the brunette smiling widely as they came into view, Steve’s hand pooled in Evie’s lower back. He pressed the down button and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, cupping her face in both of his enormous hands and going in for one more peck before the elevator doors open.

“Will you let me know when you get home from work?” he asked, dropping his hands and plunging them into his dress pants pockets. “So I know you’re safe?”

Evie nodded and gave him one last kiss before stepping into the elevators, waving to both Steve and Wanda as she headed to work.

Which turned out to be eight hours of rude customers, the new bartender literally pushing her out of the way to make drinks he didn’t know the ingredients to, and one of the busiest nights Strike had seen in months.

She ended up still in the back office at almost two, counting register receipts and fighting against the migraine blooming behind her eye. She rubbed a tired hand across her face and stacked the receipts and cash into the bank bag, tossing it into the safe and praying to every deity imaginable that the new guy had remembered to mop before he left. He hadn’t, of course, meaning she had to drag the mop and bucket out of the cramped closet and mop the entire bar, throwing waded up napkins and bottle tops into the trash can she’d been forced to scoot around with her. This was fucking ridiculous. Her boss, Alexander Pierce, had insisted on hiring a slew of inexperienced bartenders, purposely scheduling them only with her and making her train them on her own. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except they were all egotistical assholes with no respect for the fact she’d been working there for the last three years. One of the kids flat out told her he wasn’t going to listen to her because she was a woman, and the only reason she got good tips was because she had tits. What kind of 18th century bullshit was that? She’d immediately gone to Pierce and told him to fire the guy, but he’d just laughed in her face and insisted the kid meant it as a joke. Judging by the way he’d neglected his mopping duties and messed up almost every drink Evie had taught him to make, he definitely hadn’t meant it as a joke.

By the time she’d managed to pick up the new guy’s slack, she had about five minutes to make the last train for the night. The subway station itself was a ten minute walk, not to mention the extra time needed to get to the right terminal and get situated. She tugged her jacket tighter around her body and bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep from bursting into tears. She hated this fucking job, hated her boss and all the new pieces of shit he’d deemed worthy of a job, hated all of it. But she couldn’t quit. It was the only job she’d managed to find that was willing to work with her schedule at the coffee shop, even though most of her shifts there were opening, starting bright and early at a glorious 5:00 a.m.

She considered calling Nat for a ride, but knew the redhead had an early class the next day and would already be in bed. Clint might still be up, but he was probably settled in, too. Steve had to be up early for work, and she couldn’t think of anyone else with a car. Her choices were rapidly narrowing down to an Uber or a taxi when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. Too tired to even look at the caller ID, she swiped the green button and answered with a dull, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey.” Steve’s warm voice flowed through the phone, so gentle and comforting that Evie actually teared up, her throat closing with the raw desire to just bury into his arms and never leave. “You didn’t text me when you got home. I just wanted to make sure my girl is okay.”

Okay, now she was openly crying, a few tears dribbling fatly down her cheeks as she hiccuped.

“I just off work,” she choked out. “I- I missed the subway and everyone is asleep and- and I just wanna go home. I wanna be _home_ , with my cat and my bed and I don’t wanna work this stupid job b- but I can’t quit and I can’t afford a stupid Uber and _I just want to go home.”_

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She could hear Steve shifting and rustling on the other end of the line. “Are you still at work, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah.” She hated how pathetic and weak she sounded, but she was done. Pushed to and past her limits and just done.

“Okay, stay where you are. I’ll be there in less than ten, I promise.”

“No- no, don’t do that. You have to work in the morning. Steve, you have to work so early. Don’t come get me.” Tension tightened in her chest, her breathing speeding up as panic wrapped around her heart. No, she shouldn’t have answered the phone. Steve had so much to do and she was burdening him, ruining everything and making him go so out of his way. God, she always fucking did this. Always asked for too much, made people do too much when they didn’t want to. She’d done the same thing to Brock and he’d _left_ and now she was doing it to Steve and he was going to _leave_ . He was going to hate her, resent her the same way Brock did, because she’s so fucking needy and annoying and pathetic. Why would anyone want her? _“Steve, don’t come get me. I’m okay. I’ll- I’ll walk home.”_

“Evie, honey, I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? You’re gonna hyperventilate, sweetheart. You gotta breathe.”

Her stomach tightened, lungs clenching as she fought through the thick wall of panic to take a deep breath like he was asking. Her vision was starting to blur at the corners, a mix of tears and lack of air making everything fuzzy.

“Evie.” Steve’s voice was firm and she flinched subconsciously before remembering she couldn’t get hit over the phone. “Please breathe for me, sweetheart. Everything is okay. You’re not burdening me, I promise. I wouldn’t come get you if I didn’t want to. I want to make sure you’re safe, make sure you get back to Diana in one pretty piece, okay? Everything is gonna be okay.”

“B- but-,”

“I’m three minutes away, baby. How’s that breathing coming?”

Her lungs were loosening slightly, but her throat still felt tight, her breath rushing in and out in tight gusts and pants.

“It’s- it’s okay.”

“That’s good, honey. That’s so good. You’re doing so good for me, you know that? I’m so proud of you.”

_“Steve.”_

“I’m coming around the corner now. I think I see- yeah, there’s my girl.”

Steve pulled to the side of the road, throwing on his hazards and clambering out of the car without even shutting the engine off. He raced around the car and made to pull her into one of his bone crushing hugs, his face dripping in both concern and relief. Evie accidentally flinched when he went to touch her.

He froze on the spot, hands raised to touch her cheek, fear flickering over his face before he composed himself and took a measured step back.

“I won’t touch you unless you want me to,” he said slowly, his voice level and calm. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you, honey. I just wanna help get you home, okay?”

Evie nodded and hugged her arms around her torso, burying her chin into her chest and trying to blink away her headache.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, stepping past Steve to climb into the passenger's seat. He watched her buckle herself in before following suit on the drivers side, his eyes glancing between her and the road as he drove.             

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey. How are you feeling? Still pretty wound up?”

She nodded again to avoid having to speak.

“That’s okay. Let’s get you home so you can snuggle your kitty and get some water. Have you taken your meds lately?”

Her lower lip quivered and she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut to block of the disappointment and anger she knew he was about to unleash.

“I kind of wondered. Hey, it’s okay. You can take it when you get home and everything will be okay.” Steve glanced at her and chewed his lower lip. “Would it be okay if I held your hand? If you don’t want to be touched, I won’t touch you. I promise. I only want to if you’re comfortable.”

Evie offered her hand shakily, watching each of her fingers quiver in the air before Steve engulfed them in his, squeezing softly and resting the back of his hand on the console between them.

“You can squeeze if you feel anxious,” he said, winding through the roads leading to her apartment. “You won’t hurt me, so squeeze as hard as you want.”

She squeezed hard enough that her knuckles turned white, Steve not saying a word and holding her hand just as tightly as he drove her home.

Judging by the light flooding through the front window, Nat and Clint were still up, and the thought made Evie’s heart jump into her throat. Nat always gave her so much shit when she didn’t take her meds, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide her anxiety from her roommate. Steve parked out front and kissed her hand, making no move to unbuckle his seatbelt or move her from his car.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, honey?”

She swallowed hard and looked at her lap, forcing her breath out in even measures and contemplating how to ask her question.

“Will- will you stay with me tonight?”

She knew it was a risk. Steve had to work in the morning, usually the one to unlock his floor at six, bright and early, and they’d never really set boundaries for spending the night together. They’d talk about it, made plans for it, but it hadn’t happened yet. Would he even want to stay? Was this too soon? Evie’s bed was comfortable, sure, but it was just a twin and Steve’s six foot something mountain of muscle probably wouldn’t be comfortable if he had it to himself, let alone cramming Evie in there with him. Plus Diana had a habit of pawing at Evie’s face every morning when it was breakfast time, and she knew the cat wouldn’t be willing to change that just because there was a man in the bed.

“Of course I will.” Steve kissed her hand again, his eyes warm and gently crinkled at the edges. “Let me run home to grab some stuff and I’ll be right back. A half hour, tops.”

She nodded and got out of the car, fidgeting with her phone before shutting the door.

“You promise you’re coming back?” She curled her fingers around the door, chewing the inside of her cheek and looking into Steve’s painfully honest and sincere blue eyes.

“I promise. I’ll be here as long as you need me, sweetheart.”

Evie stooped back into the car and pressed her lips to his, pinching her eyes shut and clenching her stomach to keep the wave of nausea at bay. Steve read easily through her tension and pulled back after just a second, shaking his head a little.

“I’ll be back soon, sweetheart.”

She swallowed and finally left the car, shutting the door and dragging her feet through the parking lot to her apartment, wincing as Clint’s shitty rock music blared through his mini speaker. Him and Nat were both in the kitchen cleaning, the apartment smelling like lemon Clorox and lavender dish soap, the trash can booted all the way into the living room as Clint tried to block Nat from shooting her wad of paper towel into it.

“Romanoff goes for the three,” he was saying, dancing around her in gym shorts and a sleeveless tank top. “Barton picks up on the defensive end and goes for the block- oooh, and he makes the steal!” Instead of taking the paper towel, he grabbed Nat by the waist and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, staggering onto the couch and tossing Nat onto it, collapsing on top of her as she shrieked with laughter; the sound pierced through Evie’s sensitive eardrums and made her wince.

“Clint, get off!” Nat giggled, shoving at her boyfriend’s shoulder. “Evie’s home.”

“Let her watch,” he boasted, wiggling his ass in Evie’s direction. “Between the three of us, there’s gotta be an exhibition kink somewhere.”

“You’re an idiot.” Nat thwacked his head and followed her hand with a kiss, wiggling out from under him and throwing away her trash. “You okay, Eves? You don’t look so good.”

“I, uh, are something funky at the bar tonight,” she lied. “Some weird fried oysters that aren’t sitting well.”

“Want some of my Pepto?” Clint asked, spreading himself out along the length of the couch and scratching his balls. “Don’t give me that face, Nat. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”

“No, I’m okay.” Evie rubbed at her head and took a heavy breath. She needed to take her fucking meds, and fast. “Um, I think Steve is gonna stay the night, if that’s okay?”

Clint wiggled his eyebrows at her and made a couple thrusts into the air, his arms at his sides, hands clenched in fists as he moaned obscenely.

“Clint, can you be a grown up for five minutes?” Nat shook her head. “Course he can stay. You pay just as much rent as the rest of us, and you willingly agreed to live with Clint, so you can bring whoever you want over.”

“Hey!”

“Thanks, guys.”

“Do I need to take my hearing aids when I go to bed tonight? Steve’s a hot guy, I won’t lie, but I don’t know if we’re bros enough for me to hear what he sounds like when he comes.”

Evie groaned and flipped Clint off, covering her eyes and making her way to her room to the sound of his rambunctious cackles. Diana greeted her with a soft murr, winding her way between Evie’s legs and purring, already knowing her momma didn’t feel good. Evie fumbled for her two bottles of antidepressants and dumped the different doses into her palm, sitting on the edge of her bed and shakily uncapping her water bottle. She knew the effects wouldn’t kick in immediately after swallowing the off white capsules, but dammit did she wish they did. Guess that’s what she gets for taking a brain chemistry altering prescription.  

Steve kept his promise of only being gone a half hour, knocking on the front door exactly twenty nine minutes later, clad in jeans and a loose fitting white v neck. Nat let him in, gesturing toward Evie’s room and filling him in on the apparent food poisoning she was suffering from. He nodded along and thanked the redhead, knocking once on Evie’s door before walking in.

“Feeling any better?” he asked, setting his duffle bag on the floor and joining her on the bed, a couple inches apart so he didn’t accidentally brush against her.

“A bit.” She turned her water bottle over and over in her hands, guilt bubbling painfully in the pit of her stomach and making her want to retch. She glanced at her shut door and took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of her courage and reaching for the zipper of Steve’s jeans.

“Wow, hey,” he said, leaning forward to block her hand and gingerly grabbing her wrist. “What’re you doing, sweetheart?”

“I just-,” she tugged out of his grasp and slid to her knees in front of him, trying to look up at him through her lashes the way Brock had always liked. “I want-,” her hands shook as they grabbed at his pants, trying to unbutton them even though he wouldn’t let her.

“Evie, honey, slow down.” He curled his fingers around both her wrists and shook his head. “Not right now, okay? You’re pretty shaken up.”

“I can do it.” She ripped her hands out of his and put one in the middle of his chest, pushing him back against the blankets and climbing up to straddle his waist. She ground her hips down and in the small circle, the way Brock had taught her, expecting to feel the hard line of Steve’s cock pushing up against her, but she didn’t feel anything but his zipper.

“Okay, but being able to do something and wanting to do it are two different things.” He dodged her kiss and she huffed, moving to suck a small bruise onto his exposed collarbone instead. “Evie, stop, please. You’re not in your right head.”

“But I can do it, I promise. I can make you feel good.”

“I know you can, but I don’t want you to right now, okay? This isn’t- this isn’t how we’re going to do this. Not for the first time, not ever.”

“Just let me-,”

“Evie, I said no.” His hands were grabbing her hips, lifting her easily off her lap; she fought against his hold, trying to force herself back down.

“Brock, I said I could do it!”

Steve froze, his hands dropping like he’d been burned, leaving her to kiss and bite along his chest.

“Wh- what did you call me?” he asked, his tone of voice making Evie pause. She sat back on his lap, confused.

“What?”

He used the change in position to move her off his lap and to the side, moving away from her and pushing away the concerned hand she reached out. He rested his huge forearms on his knees and turned to look at her, his normally bright eyes sad and pained.

“You called me Brock, Evie. You’re ex.”

“O-oh.”

Steve swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly in his throat.

“Did-,” he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, folded between his legs. “Did he make you touch him when- when you were anxious like that? When you were having a depressive episode?”

“He, I mean, it was kind of like, like me paying him back for having to deal with all my issues, you know? He thought I was weak and stuff, for not being able to make my brain work right and- and I had to prove to him I could handle it, could handle him.”

“Evie, that’s rape.” Steve’s strong voice broke on the last word, his broad shoulders shaking. “That’s- that’s- he-,” he shoved himself off the bed and buried his face in his hands, pacing the small area of her room.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Evie whimpered, feeling tears prickle her eyes. Of course she’d mess this up, too.

“No, honey, no.” Steve dropped to his knees in front of her, holding her hands in his and looking up at her with so much sincerity in his shiny eyes it made her heart hurt. He blinked and tears clung to the long curl of his eyelashes, his lower lip quivering above his beard. “Honey, I’m not upset with you, not at all. You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong here, okay?” He pressed hot kisses to her hands, tears falling freely down his face. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I- fuck, if I could take that away for you, God I would, in a heartbeat. You don’t have to prove anything to me, ever. I _know_ how strong you are, how lovely and capable, and I will do everything in my power to help you see that, too.”

Evie was vaguely aware of the fact she was crying, too, sitting there in stunned silence as he apologized and promised and shattered everything she’d learned to expect from a partner. Steve brushed her tears away and wetly kissed her forehead, gathering her easily into his big arms and holding her against his chest, tucking her under his chin like she belonged there.

“You’re so strong, babygirl,” he murmured, his lips pressed into her hair. “So strong and sweet and kind. The world doesn’t deserve your heart, you know that? I’ve never met anyone so selfless and considerate, so genuinely kind. And my mother is Sarah Rogers, who’s basically reached sainthood at this point.”

She blurted out a laugh and burrowed further into his chest, nuzzling against his firm pectoral muscle as he laid back, shifting her to his side so she could use his upper arm and chest as a pillow.

“Try to get some sleep, huh?” He kissed her head sweetly. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and change. You try to rest.” He tucked her into the blankets up to her chin, brushing her hair back and depositing a slightly grumpy Diana onto the blanket next to her. Evie watched him dig through his bag for a second, smiling at her before disappearing into the bathroom.

She more of less dozed off while he was gone, only opening her eyes when he walked back into the room, his jeans replaced with soft looking plaid pajama pants and fucking-

_“Are those glasses?”_

[(Glasses gif!!)](http://luvinchris.tumblr.com/post/166580755362/cevanssexychrisevans-chris-evans-playing-it)

Steve had the audacity to fucking blush, his eyes hidden behind a round pair of black glasses, sitting sweetly against the bridge of his nose like they were meant to be there. The edges of the glasses, near the earpieces, were slightly pointed, leaving the circles imperfect, each lense starting off slightly straight and dropping down towards his cheekbones before curving back up. Evie’s heart pounded uncomfortably at the sight. Fuck, he was so beautiful. What was he doing about to crawl into bed with her?

He flicked off the light and wiggled in next to her, whining and pouting until she rolled over to be the little spoon, his arm tucked safely around her waist, nose buried in her hair and neck, his beard just a smidge scratchy against her skin. He kissed the skin behind her ear and whispered a sweet goodnight, his glasses resting next to her antidepressants on the bedside table.

Evie was definitely going to ask him to model them for her. But in the morning. For now, she was warm and safe, snuggled against Steve’s broad chest and petting her soft cat behind her ears as she purred on the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, fuck Brock and go Steve, yay! Next chapter up soon!


	6. Pour some sugar on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and fluff and Steve being lovely.  
> That's... about it, honestly. Enjoy!!!

Evie woke up the next morning to Steve’s phone ringing in his duffle bag, the thunderous duh nuh of the Jaw’s theme song filling her room at an ungodly hour. He groaned beside her, turning his face into her hair before taking a deep breath and straight up rolling out of the bed, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. He dug through his bag and answered his phone with a grumpy, “What the fuck do you want, Tony?” while Evie tugged the blankets over her head.

“No, I’m taking the day off,” Steve rumbled, his voice gravely and sleepy. “I own half the company- do I need a reason? Yes, because breaking your spine during sex at thirty six is an entirely common occurrence.” Evie could hear him rolling his eyes and grinned into her pillow. Sassy Steve was her favorite. “I’m taking the day off to spend the day with my girlfriend and my dogs. Have a good day, Tony.”

Steve’s phone flew into his bag and he crawled back into the bed, worming under the covers and laying his head in the middle of Evie’s back.  
“I don’t wanna do adults things today,” he mumbled sleepily, nibbling at a notch in her spine. “What do you have to do today?”  
“I, mmm.” She moaned appreciatively as his thick fingers started working at the series on knots in her lower back. “I have some homework to get done today, but that’s it. Pierce gave me the day off and I don’t work the coffee shop on Wednesdays.”

“No classes?” Steve’s hand slipped under her tank top to rub against bare skin, his touch hot and electric.

“Nope. I’m all yours today.”

He hummed happily and wiggled around so he could kiss her, tracing the seam of her lips with just the barest tip of his tongue, his fingers climbing higher up her back till they were rubbing below her shoulder blades where her bra would normally sit.

“No bra today, babygirl?” he asked, breaking the kiss in favor of biting at her shoulder. Sleepy morning wood Steve was bitey and Evie was living for it.  
“Took it off while you were changing last night,” she murmured, rubbing her toes together under the blanket as her cheeks flushed.

“Can I see you?” His question was just a breath against her skin, his fingers pulling at one of her shirt straps to pull it off her shoulder, his lips and teeth following the movement. She nodded and he carefully rolled them over, shifting onto his side to she could lie on her back, her grey shirt riding up her stomach and revealing a patch of her side. Steve’s eyes, however, were focused on her tits, filling out the front of her tank and falling slightly to each side now that they weren’t contained, her nipples hard and pushing against the flimsy fabric. He groaned a little and buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting at her skin. Evie could feel his hesitation in the way his hands twitched but didn’t move to touch her.

“I’m okay now,” she said, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm, tracing each line and bulge of muscle. “I want you to touch me. Please, daddy? Please touch me.”  
Steve outright moaned at that, lifting himself up to look at her, his eyes dark and wild.

“How can I say no when my baby begs so sweet, huh?”

“Mmm, you can’t. That’s the point.” She grinned up at him and pulled him down for a kiss, parting her lips easily and letting his tongue explore every corner of her mouth. His hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb easily finding her nipple and swirling gently around the edge, making her whine and arch into him.

“Don’t be a tease,” she bit, playfully glaring at him as he smirked.

“Don’t speak without permission,” he countered, raising his eyebrows as her mouth clicked shut. “There we go. Such a good girl for me, yeah?” He kissed a hot line down her jaw and across her neck, his tongue sliding wetly against her skin to poke at her spots of freckles, beard scraping deliciously and marking her as his.

Shifting them around so he could sit comfortably between her legs, Steve sucked a dark hickey into her collarbone, rolling the nub of her nipple between his index finger and thumb, sending sparks of heat down her spine. She tugged on the back of his shirt collar, wiggling beneath him and managing to pant out a rushed, “Off.” He smirked as he sat up, leaving one lingering bite to her collarbone and sitting back on his ankles, reaching for the hem of his shirt with those frustratingly long fingers. He tugged it up and off, revealing a tight pack of flexing abs and pecs that rivaled Evie’s B cup, round and heavy on his chest, each one topped with a perky pink nipple. He wasn’t overly muscled, his body bulging out like every muscle was replaced with a sack of meat; it was like he’d carefully built the muscles to perfect capacity, leaving no room for body fat or excess mass, every part of him and tight and toned and making Evie’s mouth water.

She reached up with shaky hands, fingers bumping against each ridge of his abs, trailing upwards to run her hands over the wide frame of his shoulders.

“Will you flex for me?” she asked softly, eyes flickering shyly to his. His cheeks flushed pink, an adorable blush that carried down to his neck and collarbones.

“Do you want me to?”

“Really, really bad.”

He sighed and hung his head before shaking it, body shaking a little. He lifted his arms up, elbows curled with his fists near his head, and flexed, his skin pulling tight over his abs, the broad, curling muscles of his arms, a few blue veins popping out along his biceps, stark against the miles of hairless golden skin. Evie couldn’t stop herself, tracing each line of muscle, feeling the raw strength shifting just underneath her hands, the power he just… held. He could probably crush her head between his bicep and elbow, probably not even break a sweat, and the idea turned her on more than it should have.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered, lifting her hands to trace the shy smile ghosting his red, spit slick lips. The blush Steve was sporting bled down to his ridiculous chest.

“That’s you, sweetheart.” He kissed her fingers and wormed his way down to her level, pressing the hard line of his body against hers. She could feel the hot press of his dick against the inside of her thigh, raising goosebumps on her skin at just how far it went down his leg.

He pressed his lips tight to hers, opening his mouth and tangling his tongue with hers, grinding their hips together just slightly, even to make her whine in the back of her throat, arching helplessly against his body. He manhandled her so she was lying back against her mountain of pillows, shirt riding up so he could move his kisses to her belly, fingers dipping into the hemline of the leggings she’d slept in. Hesitating, his smoky blue eyes flicked up to hers, teeth digging into his lower lip as he slid down to fit his wide shoulders between her legs. He tugged her leggings down, moaning low in his throat at her skimpy red thong, biting a series of love marks up the inside of both her quivering thighs.

Squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her arm over them, Evie took a deep breath to try to steady herself, unable to even handle the sight of Steve- red faced, swollen lipped, completely wrecked and debauched Steve Rogers, who was usually so put together- between her shaking legs.

“Mmm, you alright, babygirl?” he asked, tugging her leggings the rest of the way off and throwing them across the room. He buried his nose into the crease of her thigh and sank his teeth in, his hot, wet tongue darting out to lap messily at the little indents he left.

“Y-yeah,” she groaned, trying her best not to clench her thighs around his ears.

“Would it be okay if I made good on my offer from the office?” he asked, voice husky enough to make Evie moan all over again, his breath hot against her already overheated skin. He took her moan as an affirmative, reaching for the hem of her panties and rolling them down her legs, tossing them backwards over his shoulder and all but diving back into her now exposed pussy.

“Wait!” Evie panicked, pushing a shaking hand to his forehead to keep him back, closing her legs as best she could with Steve’s nine foot wide shoulders between them.

“What’s wrong?” He froze where he was, even sitting up a little to see her better, the heat draining from his eyes as they quickly filled with concern.

“I just- you don’t have to. If you don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“Some guys don’t like it, s’all.”

Steve raised one eyebrow, his forehead wrinkling.

“Evie,” he said seriously, his pupils expanding as he spoke. “There’s nothing I’d like more than to bury my face in your pussy, eat you out until you’re screaming and coming all over my fucking face. I want your thighs wrapped around my head so I can feel the way you shake when you come for me. God, I’d ask you to fucking sit on my face if I didn’t know it’d make you uncomfortable.”

Her head thumped back against the pillows, her breath heavy, unable to even process the filth that was flooding from his mouth. She’d never- no one had ever offered to go down on her before, let alone begged her to let them do it.

“You gonna let me do that, honey?” he asked, licking his thumb before drawing a light circle around her clit, making her entire body clench, her legs drawing together around his hips instinctively. A filthy smirk spread across his lips and he pressed harder, nudging back her hood and using his index finger to spread her folds. God, he was going to be the death of her. “Gonna let me take you apart with my tongue?”

Panting, she let out a weak, “Mhmm.” and settled herself back down on the pillows, following Steve’s gentle tugs until she was flat on her back with a pillow propped under her hips, lifting everything up so Steve could see it.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he growled, biting the meat of her thigh hard enough to make her gasp, her fingers grappling for purchase in fistfuls of his hair. He hooked his hands around her hips, arms bent on either side of her ass and curling forward so he could haul her closer.

And then he fucking went to town, licking a hot stripe from her hole to over her clit before focusing on the sensitive bud, alternating between gentle licks with the very tip of his tongue and hard strokes with the flat on his tongue. He shook his head slightly, closing his lips around her clit and sucking hard, the vibrations from his deep moan resounding fucking everywhere in her body, making her arch up and push his head down, deeper, anything to keep that fucking fantastic feeling. God, he was making this fucking filthy, yanking her up so her weight was rolled back, her hips entirely off the bed as he slurped and licked at her pussy, his pupils blown wide enough that she could only see a thin ring of his iris as he stared her down, watching her every move, moan, quiver.

“D- daddy,” she whined, tightening her fingers in his hair and pulling hard as his tongue nudged a certain spot on her clit that made her walls clench. “Fuck fuck fuck, more, please. Please right there, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” She could feel her orgasm building, the room spinning around her when she dared to open her eyes, her legs fucking trembling on Steve’s shoulders. She whined as he moved lower, blatantly ignoring her request to tease the rim of her hole with the barest hint of his tongue, lips curled up in an open mouthed smirk at her frustration.

“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked, lifting his mouth just slightly, flatly licking her clit and probing her hole with his index finger. “Mmm, you’re so fucking tight, doll. So tight and wet for me, fuck. Bet you’d feel fucking amazing wrapped around my cock, huh?”

She moaned and he grinned, pulling his finger away and sucking on it briefly before sliding it inside her, curling upwards to brush against her spot; her entire back arched, her last coherent brain cells functioning enough to slap a hand over her mouth so her cry didn’t echo through the apartment.

“God, you’re so fucking fun to take apart,” he purred, teasing her for a heartbeat more with his fingers before lowering back down and replacing his fingers with his tongue, hot and thick and wet and driving her to the brink of insanity.

“Jesus fuck,” she cried into her hand, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her eyes.

He hummed and closed his lips around her bud again, batting his tongue against the bundle of nerves as his lips sucked hard and that was fucking it. Her orgasm crashed over her in waves, her hips stuttering against his mouth, rocking up and down in a vain attempt to get away from the overwhelming pleasure and get more of it. He moaned filthily, tugging her closer by her hips and lapping at fluttering her clit like his life depending on it, pushing not one but two thick, slick fingers into her hole to give her something to clench down on, the added stimulus making tears dribble down her cheeks. She bit her hand hard enough to draw blood, her entire body bowing into one tight line as she hit the wave crested over it, falling back onto the bed in a weak lump as her body slid into aftershocks, the twitching in her legs and pussy subsiding slightly.

God, she could feel how wrecked she looked, blinking blearily down at Steve as he wiped his arm across his mouth, his eyes dark. He scooted up to kiss her, lips and tongue tangy and just slightly salty, moaning when she sucked on his tongue.

“Fucking hell,” he panted, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers.

She just moaned helplessly. He laughed and kissed her nose, bending down slightly to nuzzle into the hollow of her neck, his breath warm on her skin.

“Can I return the favor?” she asked, reaching down for the hem of his pants. He coughed a little and leaned out of her touch, his cheeks blazing red.

“I, uh, actually came already,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed.

“You did?”

He nodded and reached down to adjust his crotch, making a face. “Yeah. I was kinda rubbing against the bed, when I was eating you out. Couldn’t stop myself when you were coming like that.”

“That’s probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, but I can only imagine how uncomfortable you are right now.”

“Yeahhh, I could use a shower.” He laughed and moved to lay down next to her, pulling her into his chest and peppering her forehead with kisses. “Was it good for you, honey?”

She hummed and nodded, burrowing into the wall of beautiful bare skin in front of her. God, he was so warm, his skin so soft against hers, the perfect thing to keep her here, in the present, instead of letting her mind wander to what could have gone wrong, whether or not he enjoyed himself, all of the things she could second guess. They cuddled for a few more minutes until Steve started shifting uncomfortably, trying, and failing, not to make a face as his come no doubt dried and stuck to his boxers.

“Why don’t you go shower and I’ll see if I have anything for breakfast?” Evie offered, nudging his towards the edge of the bed. Steve pouted.

“I was actually hoping you’d let me take you out,” he said, eyes hopeful as he stood. “Wherever you want, sweetheart.”

Evie opened her mouth to protest but Steve level her with his no bullshit face, lips pressed together, one eyebrow raised like he was daring her to argue with him. She huffed and flopped back onto the bed.

“Fine,” she grumbled, pulling the blankets up to her chin, only mostly putting on a show. Steve kissed her head and smoothed her hair back. “My towels are the blue ones on the shelf in the bathroom. You can use my shampoo and stuff. It’s on the left side of the shower.”

He pulled a bag of his own shampoo and body wash out of his duffel and grinned.

“Well, fuck. Guess you don’t want to smell like lavender and coconuts. Suit yourself.”

“You’re pouty after you come,” he teased, sitting on the edge of the bed and scritching his fingers against the bottom of her foot. She whined and kicked at him before tucking her foot back in the safety of the blanket. “It’s adorable.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, pulling the blanket over her head. “Stop being mushy and go bathe before your jizz dries in your pubes.”

He laughed and stood back up, shaking his head. “Not gonna be a problem, sweetheart.”

“Don’t tell me- the rest of you is as hairless as your chest?”

“Not on it’s own, but yes.”

“Go shower before I decide to try to climb you like a tree.”

He laughed loudly, head thrown back with his right hand cupping the spot below his left pec, right around his ribs, before he shook his head and walked out into the bathroom. Evie had managed to clean herself up and was standing in front of her dresser, chewing her lip and trying to decide on an outfit by the time Steve came back. He was dressed in a dark maroon Henley that was at least two sizes too small and grey dress pants that hugged his thighs and ass in a truly sinful way. The top button of his shirt was undone, the red fabric clinging to every curve of his biceps, his chest bulging and bouncing just slightly almost like tits, his abs shifting and flexing visibly as he walked towards her. His hair was slicked back and still wet, a dark pair of Aviators pushed up past his hairline and sitting comfortably on the top of his head. He’d paired the entire outfit with a thin black belt and unlaced light brown boots.

He looked like sin on legs, Jesus Chris.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming to stand behind her and looping his long arms around her waist.

“My only pair of jeans is dirty and I wanted to wear them with this flannel I got from Goodwill a couple weeks ago.”

He frowned and pressed his chin to her shoulder.

“You only have one pair of jeans?”

“Normal people only have one pair of jeans, Steve,” she teased, digging through her dresser drawer for her leggings instead. “Not all of us have perfectly tailored wardrobes at our disposal.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but you should at least have more than one pair.”

“I don’t need another pair, and jeans are expensive.”

She felt Steve opening his mouth and rounded on him, poking him in the chest with the hand clutching her pants.

“Don’t,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you even think it, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“What?” he asked innocently, holding his hands up in the universal ‘I surrender’ movement. Evie saw right through it.

“Don’t you dare even think about trying to buy me clothes, or more unnecessary stuff I don’t need.”

“Too late.” He grinned impishly and she glared harder.

“Well, take it back.”

“Can’t take back a thought, Evie. My brain already made it.”

“Too bad.”

“That’s just an insult to my brain, acting like I can just erase stuff like that.”

“Okay, despite the amazing orgasm, I’ve decided I don’t like you anymore.”

“You just gonna kick me out, sweetheart?”

“Yup. Take your too small clothes and $27 pomade and get out.”

“Wow, after all we’ve been through.”

“Mhmm.”

“You brought me cookies at work. You met my dogs.”

“Doger wouldn’t spend unnecessary money on me. He’s a good egg.”

“Well, good thing I’m the one with the bank account and not him.”

“Steve.”

They argued like that the entire way through their breakfast at the shoddy diner down the street from her apartment, Steve insisting he take her shopping even though she denied him at every chance.

So they compromised and went shopping, Steve swiping his card on anything Evie even hinted at liking, looking so happy and proud of himself that she could barely find it in her to fight him on it.

“You know you don’t have to do all that, right?” she asked once they were back in the car, the backseat littered with bags from stores she’d never even thought of walking into, let alone buying something from.

“Do all what?” Steve asked back, reaching for her hand over the console, his fancy car lighting up the familiar path back to his apartment.

“Buying me all this stuff all the time.” She threaded her fingers through his and kissed the back of his hand. “I’m going to be crazy about you no matter what. You don’t have to try to buy my affection.”

“I know. I just- it’s nice, to me. To be able to take care of you so completely.” His eyes flickered to hers and away as they pulled up to a red light. “We haven’t really talked about your past much, but I get the idea you’ve never really had anybody care about you without conditions, and I guess buying you all this stuff is me trying to show you, I don’t know, that I don’t have any conditions. Whatever you want, whenever you want. You could ask me to fly you to Orlando tomorrow and rent out the entire Harry Potter world just for us and I’d do it in a heartbeat. You deserve to be taken care of, have anything you want on a silver platter, not only because it’s what you’d do for everyone else, but because of who you are, ya know? I don’t know. You’re just really important to me and I want to show you that.”

Evie was speechless, staring at the wrinkles at the corners of Steve’s eyes from all his crinkled smiles, the hard angle of his jaw, partially hidden behind his honey colored beard. She looked down at their joined hands, his strong fingers overlapping hers, the heavy watch ticking on his thick wrist.

“Was that too much?” he asked nervously. “Too soon?”

“No! No, I just don’t know what to say. I have a bad habit of dating shitty guys and I honestly don’t know what to do with- with how sweet you are. You’re so selfless and kind, Steve. No, really, listen to me, Steve. You gave your entire staff a raise the other day because you thought they should make more for what they do. How many people waved at you, called out to you, when we were doing that tour? You’ve given so much of yourself to not only them, but me, and we’ve barely been together for a month. Hell, the first night we met, you took my drunk ass back to your home, a place where you could have easily taken advantage of me, fucked me, and I would’ve let you. But you didn’t. You gave me a safe bed, a safe space to sleep and relax, and drove me home the next morning without knowing anything about me. I haven’t done a damn thing to deserve someone like you. I keep waiting to wake up from whatever dream this is.”

It took her a second to realize Steve was silently crying, wiping his eyes on the shoulder of his shirt and bringing her hand to his shaky lips, squeezing hard enough to make her fingers hurt, but the last thing she’d ask him to do was let go. He pulled into his buildings lot and parked himself instead of going through the valet like he normally did, tugging her into a back breaking hug as they stepped out of the car.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” he husked into the top of her head, lips pressed tight to her hairline. “Not my company, not my friends, not even my dogs. Please, please don’t ever feel like you’re not, or like you have to do anything to deserve my feelings, my affection, okay?”

She nodded into his chest and squeezed his waist, trying not to wipe her own tears on his shirt.

“You wanna go inside and make some dinner?” he asked softly, cupping her face in his big palms and tilting her chin up, his lips twisted in a perfect crinkly eyed smile. She nodded again and pulled him down for a hard kiss, trying to put every feeling he was rustling up in her chest into that one kiss. Steve pressed his forehead to hers as they broke apart, his shoulders shaking just slightly, his eyes still closed.

“Let’s go inside,” he murmured, sliding his hands through hers and leading her upstairs.

She slipped onto one of the barstools, sticking her tongue out at him as he banished her from helping. He playfully flipped her off and dug through the fridge, just casually pulling out an entire half of a salmon and asking her if she liked baked or grilled fish.

“Gotta keep your iron levels high,” he teased, laying the half of a salmon on the counter and easily starting to filet it. “If I’m gonna keep giving you orgasms like the last one.”  
“I faked it,” she lied, grabbing a spatula from the spinning utensil holder and using it to stab the jiggly pieces of fish.

“Sure you did. Stop that.” He swatted at the spatula and missed.

“Stop what? Does it make you uncomfortable that I’m poking your jiggle fish?”

“Okay, I know you’re younger than me, but I didn’t know you were five.”

“Ouch. Forget to take your suppository this morning, grandpa? I think you got denture paste in your beard.”

“For the love of God!” Steve burst out laughing and grabbed her spatula with both hands, leaning over the counter and letting his laughter rack through him, the noise full and boisterous in the tile kitchen. “Is this because I won’t let you help?”

“Maybe.”

He sighed and shook his head, smiling fondly.

“You’re a dork. You can help me fry the bacon for the couscous.”

She hopped off the stool and got the bacon out of the fridge, turning around as Steve was setting a frying pan onto the stove, his beautiful body flexing as he stood back to his full height after digging the pan out of one of his lower cupboards.

“You’re pretty,” she told him, setting the bacon on the counter and turning the pan on. Steve laughed and kissed her head.

They continued cooking like that, swapping kisses as the bacon sizzled, Steve explaining the recipe for his bacon couscous concoction while Evie argued that they could just make rice and eat the bacon by itself. Steve was opening his mouth, probably to let Evie and her genius idea win, when her phone started ringing on the counter. She huffed and glanced at the row of digits on the screen, frowning a little before swiping on the green phone icon.

“Hello?”

“Evie!” a thick voice slurred from the other end, sending ice into her veins. “How the fuck you been, baby?”

“How did you get this number?” she asked numbly, her grip tightening on the phone as she subconsciously backed herself into the corner of Steve’s island. He looked up from snapping the ends off green beans, his eyebrows drawing together in the middle of his forehead.

“You really think it’s that hard to get your number? Pshh, come on, babe. You’re under sestimating mee.”

“Brock, you’re not supposed to call me. Delete this number.”

“And risk not getting to talk to my girl? Fuck that.”

“I’m not your girl anymore. I want you to leave me alone.”

Steve’s frown turned angry and he wordless reached his hand out for her phone, curling his fingers for her to hand it to him. She swallowed hard, looking up at him with wide, scared eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt. This is Brock, right?” Steve’s mouth was set in a hard line, his voice hard and drained of emotion, a voice she’d never heard him use before. “No, I’m not going to let you talk to her. Ever again, actually. You have twelve hours to delete this number and never contact Evie again, or I’m going to track you down and personally delete her information for you. Do I make myself clear? No, kid, I asked you a question. I expect you to answer.”

He was quiet for a few moments, eyes cold and focused on a spot above Evie’s head, his body blocking her into the corner and making her feel trapped, caged. Panic and bile started to rise in her throat. She appreciated what Steve was doing, but it was only going to make it worse. Brock took every no as a personal challenge, and he’d only work harder to wedge himself into her life, make himself seen and noticed anyway he could. He was going to find her, she knew it. It’s what he’d done after she’d tried calling the cops after Nat’s insisting the first time she came home with her face black and blue, tracking down her dorm through the housing department on campus and showing up on her doorstep, unannounced and furious. She hadn’t been able to walk right for a week after he’d gotten done with her.

“Steve,” she whispered, her throat clenching as the back of her mouth watered, her stomach flipping over uncomfortably. She started shoving at his chest, desperately needing to throw up, to get everything out, to get out of this corner. He stepped back and almost dropped the phone as she leaned into the sink and retched, hot vomit rising in her throat and spilling out her mouth and nose. He threw her phone onto the counter and grabbed her hair, holding it away from her face, turning the sink on to rinse her puke down the drain so she didn’t have to see it as she gagged again, able to only spit out a string of saliva.

“Hey, hey, deep breaths, honey,” he cooed, wetting a washcloth with warm water and gently wiping her mouth and forehead before folding it over and placing it on the back of her chilled neck. The heat felt nice, calming, and she was able to lay her forehead against the edge of the sink, taking deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

She was vaguely aware of Steve hanging up on Brock before making a call on his own phone, glaring at Evie’s call history and soothingly rubbing her back as she did so. Doger trotted from his doggy bed in the corner and rubbed his head against her knee, whining quietly until she shakily scratched his ears. Queenie just sniffed at her socks and walked away, happily plopping into Doger’s warm bed.

“Tony, I need a favor.” Steve didn’t even bother with pleasantries. “I need you to find me everything on a kid, Brock Rumlow. I think he’s stalking Evie, definitely harassing her. Yeah, thanks. Keep me posted.” And he hung up. He set his phone down and turned all his attention back to Evie, brushing her hair back and adjusting the washcloth.

“Steve, he’s going to find me,” she wailed, tears quickly filling her eyes and dripping down her cheeks.

“No he won’t,” he said, scooping her into her arms and carrying her to the couch, Doger traipsing close behind to rest his head on Steve’s knee once they sat down, Evie tucked under his chin, her body engulfed in his big arms, buried in his wide chest. “I promise he won’t. I won’t let that happen.”

“That’s what Nat said and he still did! He- he didn’t- Steve, he got so mad that I tried to hide from him. I couldn’t- he just- they told me staying on campus would be safe and they just gave him my address. He showed up and- and I couldn’t stop him.” She was hiccuping now, forcing the words out through her tight throat, her breathing speeding up until it felt like everything was spinning, her chest rising and falling as she pushed herself further into her panic attack. He was going to find her, find her at Steve’s, and she wouldn’t be able to get away. Just like last time.

“Evie.” Steve grabbed her face and turned her to face him.. “I’m not going to let him near you, ever again. Tony’s getting information on him now so we can press chargers, get something backed up by the state so he legally can’t come near you.”

“He won’t care,” she cried, hiding her face in his neck. “He’ll still come find me.”

“And if he does, he’ll be arrested and I’ll make sure he doesn’t get back out.”

“But-but-,”

“I don’t care if I have to beat this kid with my bare hands to keep him away from you. I told you earlier I’m going to take care of you, and I will. In every situation, to the best of my abilities.”

Evie sniffled and nodded, not entirely sure if she believed him but letting the argument calm her for the time being. Steve held her a while longer, until her limbs had stopped shaking, and only let go with the promise of bringing back dinner. He layered her with blankets and set both Doger and Queenie on the couch, the corgi trotting up to nuzzle into the space against her front, licking her cheek before wiggling under the covers with her. Doger just curled up on her feet, his head resting on her bent legs, watching her with big worried eyes no matter how many times she cooed to him.

“He’s just making sure you’re okay,” Steve said from behind the island, lifting a tray of baked lemon caper salmon out of the oven and dishing it up with a heaping portion of his fancy ass couscous and steamed green beans. He poured himself a glass of dark red wine and grabbed Evie a bottle of her favorite brown pop from the fridge. She blushed and accepted the bottle with a shy smile as he sat the plates on the coffee table and nudged Doger aside so he could sit with her feet in his lap. He queued up Food Network and sat back, urging her to eat with a simple wave of his fork.

“This is really nice,” she said softly when their show switched to commercial. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He smiled brightly nd rubbed her leg with his fork free hand. “Do you like it?”

She hummed happily and munched through her green beans, dragging some bacon over from the couscous to make the vegetables that much better. Steve finished his wine and set his empty plate on the coffee table, scratching Doger’s ears and smiling down at Evie and Queenie as they snuggled.

“I think I’m being replaced,” he teased. Evie scooped Queenie closer and kissed her tiny paws.

“You definitely are.”

He rolled his eyes and stood to clear their plates once their show was over, stretching his arms over his head, his henley riding up so she could see the thick white band of his Calvin Klein boxers. She threw a pillow at him.

“Are you staying with me tonight, or should I take you home?” he asked, sitting back down and rubbing her feet through the blanket.

“I should probably go home,” she pouted. “I have class early tomorrow, and you have to go to work.”

He sighed and nodded.

“Ten more minutes of cuddling and we’ll go?”

Evie got almost twenty and some kisses before he physically lifted her off the couch and carried her to his car over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. See giggled and kicked against him, laughing the whole way home.


	7. Blazing and Lazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie and Steve's day together before their big BBQ at Bucky's the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next installment!! Your comments and kudos mean so much, oh my god. I can't even thank you guys enough. It makes my entire day when someone comments on how they're liking the story, or even just hits the kudo button. Thank you so so so much.

Brock didn’t try calling back that night, or even for the rest of the week, the thought of him drifting into the back of Evie’s head as she walked into the cafe Friday morning at promptly 4:59 and unlocking the back door. She locked it behind her and threw on an apron, smiling down the line at Cynthia, the little old lady that helped her prep the bakery before they opened. 

“Would you mind getting that cinnamon roll batter started, dear?” she asked, already elbow deep in chocolate croissants. 

“Of course.” Evie washed her hands and pulled a hefty silver bowl from under the counter, measuring out her flour, baking soda, all her dry ingredients before sliding her cold butter in. Cynthia had finished her croissants and was working on a batch of chocolate chip cookies by the time Evie slid her fat rolls into the warming drawer under their oven to rise. They worked smoothly around each other, Evie moving to the opposite side of the kitchen to prep vegetables for their soups, Cynthia working through an array of baked goods as the clock ticked closer to opening time. 

Chopping carrots and celery for their Friday chicken and gnocchi soup, Evie let her mind wander, mostly to Steve. She’d be here for the prep shift, clocking out around noon, and then heading to the bar for her day shift until six. Then back home to shower and packing for her weekend at Steve’s. The thought alone made her want to squeal like an over excited school girl. An entire weekend of just Steve. She could put her homework off until Sunday, spend every second with him entirely focused on just the two of them. No work, no school, just them. 

“You’re quiet today.” Cynthia nudged Evie with her hip, lips pursed in a knowing smile as she started brewing coffee. Evie dropped her minced garlic and a pinch of salt and black pepper into her sizzling butter, trying not to blush. “And I know those veggies aren’t what’s making you all smiley. So who is he? Or she, I don’t judge. Or they, I guess.” 

Evie laughed and shook her head, adding homemade broth to her pot and letting that boil down.

“He’s a he,” she said, ducking her head as Cynthia whooped. The scent of hot coffee wafted from the machines as the older woman egged her to keep talking. “His name is Steve.” 

“Ooh, never met a Steve I didn’t like,” Cynthia said, shuffling back to the ovens to put the rolls into the heat. “My girlfriend from church, Sarah, has a boy named Steve. Sweetest fella, and rich, too.” She wiggled her eyebrows and Evie flicked a carrot at her. 

“Gross,” she teased. Cynthia threw the carrot back. 

“I’m just saying, a handsome man with a little bit of dough in the bank never hurt anybody. Go on, though. Tell me more about your mysterious Steve. He treating you right?”

“More than right. He’s perfect, really. I don’t even know what to do with myself when I’m around him, he’s so sweet.” 

“Good. I never really did like the looks of that, what was his name, Bret?” 

“Brock?” Evie mumbled, feeling the happy color and smile slide off her face. 

“Him! He was too dark and stormy for my precious Evie.” Cynthia patted a wrinkled hand on her back. “And, I’m not going to lie to you, he looked like he might have been, you know, lacking in certain departments.” She gestured to her groin and Evie’s face flamed up for an entirely different reason. 

“Cynthia! That’s so inappropriate!” she cried, laughing as she just shrugged. 

“Anyone who can fit his family jewels into that tight of jeans needs to reevaluate the value of his package.” 

“Oh, my god.” 

“What about this Steve guy? Hung like a horse, I bet.” 

“I- wouldn’t know.” 

Cynthia gave her an unimpressed look, aged hands resting grumpily on her hips, coffee and flour splattered on her frilly pink apron. Evie couldn’t believe this was the conversation they were having. 

“I wouldn’t!” she said defensively, blushing even harder. “I have a general idea, but we haven’t- done that yet.” 

“Yet, she says,” Cynthia huffed, rolling her eyes. “How long have you been seeing him?” 

“About a month and a half.” 

“And you haven’t slept with him?” 

“Not yet. We’re taking it slow.” 

“Uh huh.” Cynthia eyed her suspiciously. “You take it much slower and your little flower is gonna dry up and fall off.” 

“Cynthia!” 

The woman just ignored her and carried the coffee pots out to the coffee counter. Evie shook her head and finished off her soup, leaving the gnocchi and chicken pieces prepped in plastic wrapped bowls in the fridge. She ran her dishes through the wash and moved through the rest of her opening duties, finally unlocking the glass front door and flipping the hanging sign in the window to Open at 7:00 am on the dot. She tossed her hair into a messy bun on top of her hair and paired it with her favorite bohemian patterned blue headwrap, moving behind the counter in her faded ankle length jeans (the new ones Steve had bought her) and soft white t-shirt with the cafe’s name printed on the front. She wiggled her toes in her new pair of navy, white, and grey (80 fucking dollar) [Sperry’s](https://www.sperry.com/en/songfish-chambray-boat-shoe/884401343276.html?cid=SEM-G_Shopping_Songfish%20Chambray%20Boat%20Shoe&kpid=31002W-884401343276&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&adpos=1o4&scid=scplp31002W-884401343276&sc_intid=31002W-884401343276&CID=SEM-SC_Shopping_NonBrnd_Sperry_G_All+Products-PRODUCT+GROUP&gclid=Cj0KCQjwjN7YBRCOARIsAFCb937Mui12CiMf15ZFkpjNUgusB7yek641CT_2E8k8e_MZkRO1b7Xrk3QaAoC9EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds) and tried not to feel guilty. Her and Steve were working on that, him toning down the spending and her learning how to accept the gifts instead of feeling like she had to repay him.

It didn’t take long for their usual morning rush to flood in, Evie swapping between taking orders and hurrying through the drinks on the espresso machine. Large mocha extra shot, iced soy latte, small foamer with hazelnut flavor shot, two cinnamon rolls and a large brewed coffee with extra room for milk. That one, at least, she didn’t have to make. By the time the line disappeared, there were a couple of people sitting at the cozy tables around the shop, reading newspapers and munching on pastries, sipping hot drinks. Evie wiped at her forehead and wiped the counters and espresso machine, rinsing the dirty milk steamers and setting them upside down to dry. She had about forty five minutes before the next rush would come in, leaving her just enough time to get all the lunch stuff out. 

Cynthia ended up swapping with her after the second rush came in, leaving Evie to walk around the store, offer refills, clean up tables, sweep. She’d just taken her dustpan and broom into the back when she heard Cynthia squeal out a gasp of, “Stevie!” Evie shook her head and grinned, depositing her trash and putting the broom back and waiting for Cynthia to drag her back behind the counter to meet her Steve. Like clockwork, Cynthia poked her head into the back and looked around wildly for her, gesturing widely for Evie to come out front. 

“Remember that sweet man I was telling you about earlier?” she hissed, reaching out to fix Evie’s headband and her apron. “He’s here! You have to meet him, Evie, I don’t care if you’re already seeing someone.” 

“You are a horrible influence,” she teased, letting the older woman fuss with her clothes. “You gonna keep fixing me or are you gonna let me meet this guy?” 

“Well, let me go talk you up,” Cynthia said, shooing Evie towards a tray of cookies. “Go pack those up and bring them out for the case.” And she shuffled back out into the store. Evie caught snippets of their conversation, Cynthia cooing and awwing over whatever this guy was saying, adding a playfully offended scoff before saying, “Well, of course I work here! Didn’t your mother tell you?” 

She rolled her eyes and backed into the swinging doors leading out to the store, arms laden with a tray of cookies. 

“You want these stacked next to the bear claws?” she asked. 

“Yes, honey, but first I want you to meet Steve. Steve, this is Evie, the cute little spitfire I keep telling your mother about.” 

“Sorry, Cynthia, but I think I’ve already met Evie.”  _ Steve’s  _ smooth voice wafted over the counter and Evie spilled the plate of cookies into the display, spinning around fast enough to make herself dizzy. 

There he was, dressed sharply in pinstriped light grey dress pants and a matching blazer, his white dress shirt partially hidden by a thin paisley tie, small swirls dyed light blue, navy, and blending his entire outfit together with brown leather dress shoes. His glasses were sitting comfortably on his nose, one hand hidden below the wall of the counter, the other curled around a big bouquet of bright yellow, white, and pink daffodils and what looked like the end of Doger’s leash.

“I stopped by your place this morning to surprise you,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red. “But Nat said you were at work. And she told me where it was. So, surprise?” He held up the flowers and lifted a small blue bag with  _ Tiffany and Co  _ printed on the front in black letters. 

“Steve,” she started, a protest on the tip of her tongue, but he shuffled forward and put them both on the counter, raising his hands innocently, Doger’s leash hanging loosely across his palm. 

“I took the price tags off and threw out the receipts, so I officially can’t return them.” He looked down at the wooden counter and fiddled with a stir stick. “Plus I had it custom made. So Googling won’t help either.” 

“Steve, what did I tell you about the presents?” Evie was trying not to whine, but she was going to drown in guilt if he kept doing this. 

“I know, I know. But I saw it in their window the other day after a meeting and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I didn’t really like the other options they had, so I made my own.”

“Babe, you just bought me clothes. We talked about this.” 

“We also talked about your guilt problem,” he said, leaning his thick forearms on the counter and lowering his head to look over the rim of his glasses at her. Okay, that wasn’t even fair. 

“Okay, I don’t know about you two, but if you don’t open that, I’m going to hit you,” Cynthia pipped in, pointing to the bag. “Come on, how many other guys in this city are going to custom make you a piece of jewelry just because?” 

Evie mumbled back an absurd and entirely inaccurate number, Steve reaching out to flick her nose before sliding the bag towards her. She swallowed hard and pushed through the tissue paper to slide her fingers around a skinny jewelry box. Pulling it out onto the counter, she popped it open and felt her jaw drop. Nestled gently on a bed on baby blue velvet was a delicate gold chain, an egg of pink opal dangling from it, the rock about the size of Evie’s finger to the first knuckle, a twinkling of diamonds sparkling brightly along the sliver of gold curled over the center of the opal. A thin ring of gold wrapped around the egg to keep it in place, a dainty bow sitting below the hook holding the jewelry to the [chain](https://www.tiffany.com/jewelry/necklaces-pendants/jean-schlumberger-egg-charm-and-chain-GRP02447?fromGrid=1&origin=browse&trackpdp=bg&tracktile=highlight&fromcid=287465&trackgridpos=292). 

“They had just regular opal in there at first,” Steve said softly. “But the jeweler said that, uh, pink opal has good energy for people with loving hearts. Helps calm and clear your emotions, heal trauma and stuff like that.” He shredded a napkin as he spoke, refusing to look up and blushing down past his collar; a high whine rose from below the counter and Doger’s nails clicked on the floor as he shifted closer to his owner, no doubt pressing his furry head to Steve’s knee. Evie reached across the counter and lifted his chin, smushing both hands to his cheeks and pressing a hard kiss to his adorably pouty lips. 

“I love it,” she said quietly as they pulled apart. “Help me put it on?” He nodded and pulled the necklace out as she turned around, his fingers easily working the delicate clasp open and closed, the opal dangling perfectly just below her collarbones, not too high, not too low. She touched her fingers to it’s gentle weight and turned to give Steve another kiss. 

“Why don’t you take your break now?” Cynthia suggested, already dumping the finished soup into two bowls and loading the plates next to them with bread. She set the bowls in front of Evie and handed her two plastic beverage cups, shooing the younger woman out from behind the counter and all but confiscating her apron. 

Evie carried the soup to one of the back tables, Steve following her just a couple steps behind with Doger in tow, his tan dress shoes and Doger’s short nails clicking on the tile floors.  She bent down to scratch Doger’s ears, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth as he soaked up the affection, his tail wagging happily back and forth.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she cooed, giggling as he hopped forward to lick her face and neck. Steve smiled fondly at the two of them before lowering his hand over the side of his chair, tapping the side of his knee twice with his index and middle fingers. Doger’s ears sprang to attention and he slid through Evie’s hands to curl up under Steve’s chair, resting his head on crossed paws and looking up at his owner with sharp, attentive eyes. 

“Sorry,” Steve said quietly, pulling his bowl of soup towards him. “The people a couple tables over were giving us dirty looks, and he only has his support animal collar on, not the vest. It’s not as easy to see.” 

“Does that happen a lot? People giving you dirty looks?” 

He shrugged one shoulder and thoughtfully chewed on a bite of bread. “Sometimes. I usually don’t take him out without the vest, but sometimes it rubs up under his legs weird and I didn’t want him to get uncomfortable.” 

“Poor guy.” Evie sent the dog a sympathetic look and reached down to pat his head. 

“He has such a hard life,” Steve teased. She stuck her tongue out at him and spooned her soup into her mouth, humming contently as a fluffy pillow of gnocchi all but melted in her mouth. 

“So I gotta ask,” he said, dipping his bread into the soup. “Do you make the soups, or does Cynthia?” 

“I usually do,” she said back, blushing as Steve dropped his spoon and folded a hand over his chest dramatically. 

“You’re telling me you can cook like this and my dumb ass banished you from my kitchen?” 

“I tried telling you,” she said, laughing. “But you wouldn’t listen, ya butthead.” 

“I’m a fucking idiot,” he grumbled, digging into his soup and shaking his head at himself. 

“Just in the kitchen,” she clarified, and he pointed his spoon at her in agreement. 

“So are you excited for Saturday?” he asked a couple minutes later, dragging his last piece of bread through the remnants of his soup at the bottom of the bowl. 

“Mhmm.” She wiped her face with a napkin and nodded. “A little nervous, too, but mostly excited.” 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, I promise,” he assured her. “Everyone is going to love you. Tony’s basically the worst of the group, and you already met him. I can already tell you and Bucky are gonna get along great, with how much you both make fun of me.” 

“Bucky’s the one who’s house we’re going to, right?” 

Steve nodded. 

“He has a place outside the city, big backyard and a smoker, a huge grill, flat screen for the game. It’s kinda become our go to when we’re getting everyone together, just cause there’s so much space.”

“Do you know who’s all coming?” 

“Not too many people, don’t worry. It’ll just be me, Buck, obviously, my friend Sam and his fiance Maria, Tony and his wife Pepper, Thor and his friend Val, uhhh, I think Pegs is coming, which means Angie’s coming, too.” 

“Peggy as in your ex fiance Peggy?” 

“Hey.” Steve reached across the table and slid his fingers through hers, his gaze gentle. “There’s nothing between her and I, I promise. She’s basically my sister at this point, which is weird, I know. But it’s just how her and I are.” 

“I trust you on that. But, won’t she be mad? Or jealous? I don’t want to make her upset by being there.” 

“Honey, part of the reason she’s coming is so she can meet you. It’s- everybody wants to meet you. It’s been a really long time since I’ve been interested in someone, and probably longer since I’ve brought anyone around to meet them.” 

“And they’re okay with me being so much younger than you?” 

“That, ahh, they don’t actually know about that yet.” 

“You didn’t tell them.” 

“Well, ya know, Tony asked, but I just said you look young for your age and I kinda, ya know, didn’t… get around to correcting him yet?” Steve grinned sheepishly, showing almost all his teeth, and Evie narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You’re the worst.” 

“I was going to tell them! I just chickened out.” 

“I told my friends how old you are.” 

“Yeah, but your friends are millennials. Your generation is accepting of shit like that.” 

“My  _ generation?”  _

“Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. You’re the ones with self deprecating daddy issues.” 

Evie’s eyebrows shot into her forehead and Steve paled. 

“Fuck, Evie, I didn’t mean it like-,” 

“Uh huh. Sure you didn’t.” She stood and grabbed their bowls, turning towards the kitchen without another word. He scrambled after her. 

“Wait, honey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said desperately, all but chasing after her as she slipped behind the counter. He followed her down the length of it, Doger traipsing after him. She dumped the dishes into a tub and ignored him. “Evie, baby girl-,” 

“No.” She finally turned to face him and glared, folding her arms across her chest.  “You don’t get to  _ babygirl  _ me after lying to your friends about something I’ve been completely honest with from the start, not to mention after making untrue assumptions about people you barely even know.” 

“I didn’t mean-,” 

“I don’t care if that’s not how you meant it, Steve. That’s how you said it. I find it highly ironic that you’re the one acting so superior to my  _ generation  _ when you’re the one being sneaky and lying to the people you’re supposedly so close with.” 

“I’m not lying to them, Evie. I just haven’t told them yet.” 

“So you’re telling me if Bucky called you, right now, and wanted to know how old I am so he can make sure I can legally drink, you’d tell him my age?” 

His beat of hesitation was answer enough. 

“Unbelievable.” 

“Wait, I-,” 

“Look, I have work I need to do. And I’m sure you do, too. So, door’s that way.” 

Steve stared at her with a mixture of anger, disbelief, and desperation coloring her face. 

“I’m not going to leave in the middle of an argument,” he finally said, straightening his stance like he was settling in. 

“Then stay,” she said, feeling anger bubble in her stomach and heating her face. “But I’m going back to work, so have fun talking to yourself.” 

“Jesus, Evie, seriously? I’m trying to work this out with you. You don’t have to be fucking rude about it.” 

“Go ahead and swear at me some more. Really making me less upset.”

“Fucking hell.” He blew out a hard breath and raked his fingers through his hair harder than necessary. Doger whined at his side; Steve stumbled forward onto the counter, his upper body collapsing onto it hard enough to shake the rows of cardboard coffee cups. Evie felt every ounce of anger drain out of her, reaching instinctively for his clenched hands. 

“What can I do?” she asked desperately as his shoulders started to tremble. He wheezed and patted the side of his suit jacket, fingers trying to claw inside before Evie reached into the inner pocket for him, pulling out a rattling bottle of pills and a thick inhaler. She popped the safety cap off the inhaler and helped guide it past his lips, Steve gratefully sucking down a lungful of the medicine while his shaking hands held it to his mouth. He gestured for Evie to open the pills as he held the medicine in his lungs, then held up two fingers; she dumped exactly two pills into his hand and handed him a cup of water. Watching him gulp them down, she chewed her thumbnail, eyes flickering between his quivering form and Doger, who was pacing the small area behind Steve’s spread legs, ears flat against his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, wiping sweat away from his forehead with his arm. 

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get upset with you. I’m sorry I triggered that.” 

He shook his head and lifted himself off the counter, gripping the edge hard enough to turn his knuckles white. 

“It wasn’t you,” he said weakly. “Just stress, and my asthma’s been really bad with all the pollen lately.” 

“Are you okay?” 

He nodded and cleared his throat thickly. Evie refilled his cup of water and dumped in some ice cubes. 

“I’m sorry for not telling my friends how much younger than me you are. I am. I wasn’t trying to hide it, I swear, I just got nervous. They mean well, but my friends can be judgemental about new partners. There’s been a couple girls I’ve been with who have only really been interested in me for my money, been burned a couple times, and they just don’t want to see that happen again,” he said quietly, sipping on his water. “I’m not ashamed of it, or anything like that. I just know how they are.”

“And I’m sorry for getting upset with you. That wasn’t really fair, cause you weren’t trying to be an ass or anything.” 

“Is that a touchy subject for you- partners acting like they’re hiding you, ashamed of you?” Some of the color was filling back into Steve’s face and Evie felt the knot of worry in her chest loosen a little. 

“A little.” She grabbed the sanitizer rag and wiped down the counters to avoid looking him in the face. “Brock used to do that a lot. Pretend I was his sister or something anytime we went out and he saw someone cute.” She shrugged and dropped the rag back into the bucket; Steve’s jaw tightened and he visibly ground his back teeth together, eyes dark and stormy. 

“The more you tell me about this guy, the more I want to knock his face in.” 

She opened her mouth to make an offhand comment about violence not being the answer, but the front door jingled, a small crowd of the beginning of a lunch rush siphoning in. 

“I gotta get back to work,” she said, pouting a little. Steve leaned across the counter for a kiss. 

“I’ll come pick you up after you get done at the bar,” he said, kissing her forehead and shrugging his suit jacket up a little higher on his broad shoulders. 

“You don’t have to do-,” 

“I want to. I’ll see you at six.” And he disappeared out the front door, pausing to kiss Cynthia’s wrinkled cheek as Evie started taking orders. 

Steve walked into the bar at exactly 5:50, Doger sniffing suspiciously at some stay peanut shells. Evie was just finishing up showing the new guy how to properly pour a draft of beer when he slid into one of the stools, resting his chin on his hand and watching her work. 

“This is bullshit,” the new kid spat, dumping out another glass of pure foam. 

“You just have to tilt the glass more,” Evie said, and Steve could tell she was using every ounce of her patience not to snap at the kid. She left him to it and tossed a square napkin on the bar in front of Steve, leaning forward with her elbows on the wood so he could peek down the front of her scoop neck shirt. She’d changed since he’d seen her at the bakery. 

“You give all your customers this nice of a view?” he teased, sliding his tongue across his lower lip and keeping his eyes trained on the indecent amount of tit she was flashing him.

“Just the cute ones.” She winked and stood back up. “What’ll it be, Rogers?” 

He waved his hand and asked for water. “I have to drive you home,” he said, chuckling.

“You’re no fun.”

“It comes with the age.” 

“As do hemorrhoids, so I’ve heard. When’s the last time you got checked for those?” 

“I’m seriously rethinking letting you come over.” 

“Eh.” She shrugged and started washing the glasses below the bar. “You’ll forget in a couple minutes. Mind’s not as sharp once you hit eighty.” 

“I want to speak with your manager. This is harassment.” 

She just cackled as an older man,  _ actually  _ older, maybe fifty five or sixty, came out from the back of the bar, clad in grey green slacks and a black button up. Steve tried not to wrinkle his nose at the color combination.

“Mr. Pierce, Evie’s harassing the customers,” the new kid automatically said, pointing an accusing finger at Evie’s shoulder. She rolled her eyes and handed Steve his water. 

“Trevor, this is my boyfriend,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. 

“Boyfriend, huh?” Pierce glanced at Steve, the corner of his lip turning up in what looked like the beginning of a sneer before he fixed his face. “We’ve talked about visitors at work, Montgomery.” 

“I’m just here to pick her up,” Steve said, holding his hands up innocently. “No visiting.” 

Pierce’s eyebrows raised and he turned to Evie, who was pouring a draft for another customer. 

“I thought you were staying till close tonight,” he said, and Steve didn’t miss the way his wrinkled hand reached out to brush Evie’s waist as she passed him to give the customer the beer. 

“I, uh, I get done at six,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to another awkwardly. She didn’t really want to walk past Pierce and his wandering hands again, but he was directly in her path to the register. 

“Why don’t you stay? Give Trevor some extra training. He’s not register trained yet, so he can’t be behind the bar by himself.” 

“I can’t stay, Mr. Pierce. I didn’t- isn’t someone scheduled to come in after me?” 

“I gave Jessica the night off. It’s a Friday night and she said something about her sorority throwing something together.” 

“But she was on the schedule to close tonight.” 

“Well, now you are.” Pierce wiped something off his sleeve as Evie stared at him, her mouth hanging open. 

“But-,” 

“Evie can’t stay tonight,” Steve lied, scooting forward on his stool. “I’m taking her to a gala for Fortune 500 companies in the Manhattan area. Ya know, the ones always looking for local bars to sponsor them? That lets each bar have it’s own tent and free advertising? I’d hate to go alone with a bad opinion of Strike because they kept my girlfriend working when she isn’t scheduled to.” He wrinkled his nose and stage whispered, “And guess who’s the head of the sponsorship committee?” 

He took a dramatic drag of his water and flipped his wallet onto the counter, unfolding it so Pierce could see his ID sitting in the front. Pierce’s face drained of color and he took a step back. 

“Montgomery,” he said, turning to a confused Evie. “I’ll- you can go. Cash yourself out and throw your apron in the bin.” 

Evie stared between him and Steve, completely confused, before she decided not to push her luck, scrambling to the register and already untying her apron. Pierce followed her, practically plastered to her back as she tapped through buttons of the register screen, visibly shrinking from the man behind her. Steve’s jaw tightened. 

“See you next week!” she called, hurrying around the bar and giving Steve a look that read  _ get me the fuck out of here.  _

“I don’t like your boss,” he said as they walked outside to his car. Evie sighed and wrinkled her nose, folding her arms over her chest. 

“I don’t either. He’s usually not there, so I don’t have to worry about it.” 

“I didn’t like the way he kept touching you.” Steve’s hands clenched into tight fists until she reached over and poked his hand repeatedly until he opened it so she could braid her fingers through his. 

“Well, now the only one touching me is you. For the whole weekend. I’m all yours.”       

Steve wasn’t about to hide how much he enjoyed that thought. 

…………………………………………………………………………………….

“You,” Nat said, pointing to Evie as her and Steve walked in through the front door and promptly froze at the scene in front of them. Nat had Clint pinned to the floor in front of their coffee table, his face buried in his folded arms, an array of needles and tiny plastic pots full of blank ink scattered around them. Thin black lines on the back of Clint’s calf came together to make a bow and arrow. “Go shower and get ready. We’re going out tonight.” 

“Hello to you, too. She finally get you to do the stick and poke, Clint?” 

He whimpered into his arms. 

“How’s it feel?” 

Another whimper and Evie laughed. 

“I’m serious,” Nat continued, wiping Clint’s leg with a damp paper towel. “Peter Parker’s throwing a party at his place. Told Clint in their Econ class we’re all invited.” 

“Peter Parker with the place in the burbs Peter Parker?” 

Nat nodded. “There’s gonna be hella booze, and apparently his aunt let him convert their living room into a dance floor. It’s gonna be fun and you don’t have to work, so we’re going.” 

Evie turned to Steve and tried not to look too hopeful. 

“We can go,” he said before she had a chance to open her mouth. He did that crinkly smile again and she just about melted into the floor. “I can drive you guys, since it’s outside the city. I don’t really trust the buses to get you all back safely.” He swiped his thumb across her face, eyes searching hers with a gentle smile playing on his lips, and she felt her stomach clench with how _pretty_ he was, how kind and soft and he was looking at her like she hung the moon and it was just… so overwhelming and different from anything she’d experienced before.   
“Yeah, yeah, you guys can go jerk each other off in the shower. You have an hour to be ready, Eves, then we’re taking shots.” 

Evie’s eyes widened and she burst into a fit of giggles, dragging Steve down the hall by his hand and disappearing into her room with him. 

Forty five minutes later, she was freshly showered with her hair drying into a loose set of waves, completely shaven (she’d made sure to go over her lady areas twice before moving to her legs, just to be sure), and dressed in black skinny jeans and her favorite red velvet racerback top. She zipped her feet into a pair of velvety heeled black boots, the block heel glimmering with a layer of silver sparkles, and stood to face Steve, spinning in a quick circle so he could see her entire outfit. He stared from his spot on the bed, eyes raking over her form hungrily, his lower lip red and slightly swollen from biting it so much. He curled his fingers towards himself, gesturing for her to come to him, and her stomach all but dropped to the floor. 

Steve’s thick fingers wrapped around the chain of her long necklace, a thin circle pendant hanging at the end near her belly button, and he used his grip to tug her down into his lap. His hands immediately shifted to her ass and he landed a sharp slap to her right cheek. 

“You think I should let you out looking that fucking good?” he growled, burying his face into her neck and biting at her collarbones. Her head knocked back, hair dangling down her back, unable to keep herself from moaning. He let her grind down into his lap, against the hard line of his cock, stiff and firm and tenting his pants. “God, look at you, all fucking dolled up and desperate for me.” 

He placed a particularly hard bite to the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder, her moans echoing around the small space on her room, pussy clenching as heat pooled between her legs. 

“Right there,” she groaned, feeling him start to suckle the spot, his hands sliding around her waist. His fucking hands were big enough to nearly completely wrap around her, his fingers almost touching when they reached on either side of her spine, and every part of him easily out matching hers. “Fuck, daddy, feels so good.” 

“I’ll give you two options,” he said gruffly, leaning back and brushing her hair out of her face with both big hands. “You can come right now on my fingers, or you can come later. But you can’t have both.” He popped the button on her pants and easily slid his hand in, his index and middle fingers easily slicking and rubbing teasing circles around her clit. She fought to think through the pleasure zipping up her spine at his touches, his lips sucking a line of bruises from under her ear to her throat. He applied just a little more pressure with his fingers, slipping under the hood of her clit and rubbing harder, up and down, instead of his soft little circles. 

“What’ll it be, sweet thing?” 

She groaned and dropped her head to his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to take a deep breath. 

“I wanna- later. Wanna come later.”

He nodded and withdrew his hand, making of show of sucking hard on each of his fingers to clean them, his pupils widening as she watched. 

“Hey.” Nat gave one short knock before barging into the room, a shot glass in each hand. Evie jumped and dove off Steve’s lap onto the floor, barely avoiding Diana’s food bowl. “Stop fucking and come take shots with us.” 

Evie grumbled as Steve helped her up, brushing her hair away from her shoulders as she went. Clint was waiting for them in the kitchen, carefully measuring out rows of liquor and bouncing slightly to the beat blaring from his phone. 

“Bottoms up!” he called cheerfully, sliding two of the cups towards Nat and Evie, grabbing the last for himself. 

“You didn’t pour Steve one.” Evie frowned and went to hand him her shot but he waved her away. 

“Designated driver, remember?” 

“I don’t want to drink if you’re not.” 

“It’s okay, honey.” Steve smiled at her and moved to sit on the arm of the couch. “I want you to have fun with your friends.” 

She looked at him for a few seconds, biting her lip and deciding whether or not she wanted to believe him, before nodding slowly and reaching for her shot. Clint cheered and the three of them tapped their shot glasses together before slamming them onto the counter and shooting them back. Nat finished hers smoothly, not even making a face, while Clint and Evie both shook their heads and winced. 

“Pussys,” she said, already pouring the next round. 

“I don’t do shots,” Evie whined, her cheeks already tinted pink. “I drink wine from the bottle with my cat.” 

“Hence why you never go out, and you never get drunk.” Nat handed her another shot. “Try not to take it like a bitch this time.” 

Evie flipped her friend off before the three of them took their second hit, her and Clint both shuddering. She set her shot glass on the counter and rummaged through the fridge, hollering in victory as she pulled out a chilled six pack of raspberry Smirnoff Ices. 

“The perfect chaser,” Steve teased. “More booze.” 

“Fight me,” she said, twisting the metal cap off easily and accepting her refilled shot from Clint. She chased it with her Ice and only pulled a smidge of a face this time. Steve shook his head, a fond smile coloring his face,  and stood to grab a couple cold water bottles from the fridge to keep in the car. 

“One more before we leave,” Nat said, both Clint and Evie groaning but accepting their respective shot glasses. They all tossed them back and Evie clambered to where Steve was leaning against the wall by the door. 

“You’re really cute and I’m glad I’m dating you,” she whispered, cheeks pink, eyes bright. Steve bit his lip to keep from laughing and cupped her face. 

_ “You’re  _ really cute,” he whispered back, leaning down to kiss the tip of her nose. She giggled and all but launched herself into his arms, burrowing her face into the warm spot between his pecs and humming happily to herself. Nat just rolled her eyes at the two of them and grabbed her leather jacket off the back of one of the kitchen chairs, lacing her fingers through a slightly stumbling Clint’s and walking out to the car. 

The car ride through the city to the Parker residence was mostly quiet, save for Clint and Evie screaming along to  _ Living on a Prayer  _ when it happened to come on the radio; Nat and Steve just laughed fondly at their partners. They pulled up to a small suburban house, canary yellow with light blue shutters, and Steve parked on the street, the thin driveway already littered with cars. He grabbed Evie’s drawstring bag for her, filled with her remaining Ices, and gripped her hand, leading her slightly wobbly self through the dirt driveway. 

Clint knocked on the front door, trying and failing to suppress a burp, making Nat smack his arm as a bright eyed kid threw open the front door, a mop of slightly curly dark hair splattering his forehead. 

“Holy shit, you made it!” he gushed through thin lips and a wide smile, hugging each of them in turn and not even hesitating to throw his arms around Steve. “Oh, fuck, I don’t know you.” He laughed and took a step back, running skinny fingers through his hair. “I’m Peter.” 

“This is Steve,” Evie said, looking up at him with heart eyes. “My boyfriend.” 

“Cool, cool. Come in, you guys! There’s Jello shots in the kitchen. Uhh, I think Ned’s opening up the keg once we find the tap. I set up Twister and Jenga but I don’t think anybody wants to play.” He was basically pouting and Evie reached out to pat his shoulder. 

“People are bitches,” she said seriously, and it took everything Steve had not to cackle. Peter led them inside, to a living room littered with college kids in various levels of drunkenness and no lights except for strands of lights that looked like little peppers and sombraros hanging from the ceiling and what was coming in through the windows. There was a low bass thumping through the floors, making everything vibrate just slightly, the music accompanying it low enough to still hold a conversation. 

Steve kept mostly to Evie’s side as the wandered through the party, rationing her alcohol to her, offering her water when her cheeks flushed a bit too red for his liking. It was nice, to see her so in her element, laughing and hugging friends, chattering loudly about horrible professors, playing (and losing miserably, though that didn’t stop her smile) at beer pong and flip cup. He got a break once Nat tugged her onto the makeshift dance floor, moving to lean against a far wall and just watch his girl move. 

She was intoxicating, swinging her thin hips in a tight circle, laughing as Clint and Nat pressed in on either side of her, the three of them grinding and dancing together. She finally seemed relaxed, calm, and Steve couldn’t help smiling at her like an idiot. 

His smile faltered a little when Peter slid in behind Evie, a loose hand touching her hip to bring her backwards so her ass was moving against his crotch. Both of the kids hands came up to frame her hips, pressing her back into his front, and Steve felt himself moving off the wall without even thinking about it. 

“Down, boy,” Nat said, pressing a hand to his shoulder, pushing him back, and coming to stand by him. “That’s not something you have to worry about.” 

“He needs to get his hands off my girlfriend.” 

“Steve. Peter’s painfully asexual and, trust me, has no interest in making a move on Evie.” 

He watched the two of them grinding and tried to contain the flood of possessiveness and anger bubbling in his veins. The kid seriously needed to move his hands, and his dick, somewhere else before Steve did it for him. 

The song they were dancing to ended and Peter finally  _ moved,  _ stepping to the side of the dance floor and talking to his small group of friends. 

“They’re probably all gonna go smoke,” Nat said, taking a sip of her drink. “Yup, there they go.” They watched as Peter, his friend Ned, Evie, and Clint all traipsed through the house to the backyard. 

“Come on.” Nat tugged on Steve’s arm and led him out to the back deck, sliding gracefully into a reclining lawn chair and gesturing for him to do the same. The crowd had clambered onto the trampoline and Steve saw the flicker of a lighter in the darkness falling around them. He was about to ask what they were smoking, until he took another breath and was met with the strong scent of body odor mixed with skunk. 

“Evie smokes pot?” he asked, surprised, turning to Nat. She set a can of beer on the arm of his chair and shrugged. He cracked it open and took a swig, pulling a face and checking the label. Coors light. How college of them.

“Not often. It’s really only when we come here. Peter has a medical marijuana card for his anxiety, so he’s got the good stuff.”

“Huh.”

“She gets really honest when she’s high, so you’ll probably be finding out some stuff about her tonight. Just warning you.” 

“Like what happened with that Brock kid?” 

Nat’s face hardened and Steve instantly regretted asking. 

“I’m not gonna bullshit you,” she said flatly, taking a long drink from her cup before continuing. “Brock’s a fucking piece of garbage. It’s not really my place to say all of it, but we banned him from the apartment after Clint walked in on him smacking her around because she wouldn’t put out. He got these fucked up ideas about sex and expectations in her head, and she got in too deep before she knew what was happening. She- he put her in the hospital before we could convince her to take it to the cops.”

Steve crunched his can into a ball without meaning to. 

“Yeah. And the more any of us tried to intervene, the harder he’d hit her. We had to move into a new complex, get her a new phone, the whole nine yards before he finally gave up. Which is why I was kind of a bitch when you first came around.” Nat glanced at him from the corner of her eye and took another long drink, emptying her cup and spinning it between her hands. 

“Evie’s been through a lot, ya know? Her brother used to make her blow him when they were kids, would hit her if she refused. He’s in jail now, somewhere in North Carolina, so that’s not an issue. She’s super depressed, worries about goddamn everything and everyone, and she’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. She forgave her brother, forgave Brock, even tried to do couples counseling with him so he could get some help. Who does that? Tries to get their abuser help? She loves everybody and tries to help everyone with all their problems, and it’s scary, sometimes, to be her friend. She sees the best in everybody, and it gets her in trouble sometimes.” 

“It makes a little more sense, now, why you were so upset when she missed check in.” 

“Somebody’s gotta look out for her, cause God knows she won’t. She has absolutely zero self preservation.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. 

“She’s amazing,” he said softly, looking up and just making out the shape of his girl as she raised the glass bowl to her lips, Clint helping her wave the flame flickering from the lighter over the buds placed inside. 

“She is. And you’ve been good for her, really. Clint and I used to have to force her to take her meds, and now she just takes them. She’s going to class again, showering on a normal basis. All since you came around.” 

“I’m sure it’s not me,” Steve said, flushing red. 

“Well, you’re the only thing that’s been different in the past couple months.” Nat arched an eyebrow at him, lips pursed, and he felt surprisingly small under her heavy gaze. They both looked up as the crowd climbed down off the trampoline, and Steve couldn’t help laughing loudly as Evie bounded up to him, clambering over his legs and into his lap. 

“Hi,” she breathed, eyes wide and glazed over, smelling heavily like pot and the sweetness of her raspberry drinks. 

“Hi there.” He rubbed his thumb against her jutting hip and kissed her nose. “How you feeling, sweetpea?” 

“So good. So calm.” She burrowed into his neck, clamping her legs around his waist as best she could with him sitting down. 

“That’s good.” He rubbed his big hand up and down her back, scratching just a little at the base of her spine, and she practically purred. 

“I think I’m ready to go home,” she said quietly, already drooping sleepily in his arms. 

“Your home or my home?”

“Yours. Wanna snuggle you and Doger all night.” 

“Okay, honey.” He smoothed her hair down and looked to Nat, who was cuddling an equally baked Clint. “You guys ready to go?” 

“We can take the bus back to our place,” Nat said, brushing Clint’s hair away from his forehead as he wormed into her lap. “So you don’t have to drive us.” 

“We could all come back to mine,” Steve offered, scooting to the edge of his lawn chair and standing, hitching Evie a little higher on his hips so she could wrap her legs around his waist. “I have a guest room, and I could drive you guys home in the morning, when everyone is a little less inebriated.” 

“That’s- okay, that works. Thank you.” 

Steve smiled and carried Evie to the car, the brunette murmuring incoherently into his neck and hiccuping every now and then; he buckled her into the front seat and kissed her forehead, helping Nat wrestle Clint into the back before climbing in himself. 

He tried not to blush as Clint and Nat stared open mouthed at his apartment, Clint stumbling to the floor to ceiling windows and all but stuck his face to the glass, Nat just trying to take all of it in. He gave them a quick tour after plopping a sleepy Evie on the couch, showing the couple where the bathroom and guest bedroom where. 

“Are you guys hungry?” he asked, already pulling a couple of frozen pizzas out of the freezer and turning on the oven. All three nodded as Clint and Nat piled onto the couch with Evie; Steve handed Nat the remote and briefly explained how to work everything before making his way back to the kitchen. He needed to start marinating the ribs he was taking to Bucky’s tomorrow. 

“Steve,” Evie whined, reaching out towards him from the cuddle puddle on the couch. “Come snuggle.” 

“I will in a second, honey,” he said, throwing together soy sauce, scallions, onion powder, ginger, and honey together in a plastic bag before sliding in the rack of ribs. She was so cute like this, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and just a touch heavy, her lips rosy and wet. He wiped his hands, setting a timer for the pizza, and walked to the couch, wedging himself in at the end and letting Evie snuggle into his lap. 

“You’re so hot it makes my stomach hurt sometimes,” she blurted, and Nat snorted. 

“Wh- what?” he asked, trying not to laugh. 

“It’s really not fair,” she continued, poking lazily at his kneecap. “You’re so nice and you buy me stuff all the time, and you have the prettiest smile ever. It doesn’t matter if you’re old. You’re the best, daddy.” 

Steve’s stomach dropped through the floor, his face flaming as Nat whipped around to stare at them, Clint sitting up fast enough to fall off the couch, yelling out an obnoxious, “Did she just say what I think she said?!” Steve tried to cover it up, maybe play it off on the weed and a slip of the tongue, but Evie started talking over him. 

“I call Steve daddy when we do sexy stuff,” she said casually, and Steve couldn’t blush harder if he tried. “He ate me out the other day and I came all over his face and it was  _ awesome.”  _

“Okay, honey, I think that’s enough.” Steve covered her mouth with a huge hand; she just licked him and giggled hysterically behind the blockage. 

“Oh, my god,” Clint said from the floor, Queenie licking at his ear. He didn’t seem to even notice, too busy staring at the ceiling with glazed over eyes. “My roommate is my favorite comic book artist’s sugar baby. I’m gonna shit myself.” 

“You better not,” Nat said, poking him with her foot. 

“That’s not what it’s like,” Steve said, at the same time Evie blurted, “He’s the best sugar daddy on the planet, comic book drawer or not.” 

“Jesus Christ.” He hung his face in his hands and shook his head, trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. This is what his life is coming to, what he gets for going to college parties. College had changed so much since he’d been there. The timer for the pizzas dinged from the kitchen and he all but leapt off the couch, quickly pulling out the bubbly pies and cutting them up. He kept them on the pizza stones and carried them into the living room, glasses of water for everyone in tow. 

Evie wiggled back into his lap like nothing had happened as everyone munched on their pizza, and he couldn’t stop himself from running his fingers through her long hair, staring at her with a fondness he knew the others could see, but he couldn’t control. 

Once everyone was done, he cleared the stones and tossed everything into the dishwasher. Clint and Nat disappeared into the guest room and Evie wandered over to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the warm gap between his shoulder blades. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing her hands and hitting start on the dishwasher. “Ready for bed?” 

“Mhmm. I’m sleepy.” 

“Let’s get you into the bed, then.” 

She paused when he led her to the door, and his forehead collapsed into a series of confused wrinkles. 

“You okay?” 

“I’ve never been in your room before,” she said quietly, eyes flickering between him and the door. He smiled at her, eyes warm and crinkled at the corners, and nudged the door open with his hip. 

The floors were hardwoods, same as the rest of the floor, a California King bed sitting against the far wall; the walls were a warm grey with a navy accent wall, the one behind his bed, and he had a scattering of large framed pictures on the wall opposite his bed. All black and white, the pictures sat in shiny gold frames in sets of three. Pictures of a woman with kind eyes kissing Doger’s head, a younger looking Steve with his arms thrown around the shoulders of a man with dark, shaggy hair and a missing arm, Steve with short hair and camo, arm and arm with other men clad in camo standing in front of a helicopter, a couple standing in front of a tiny brick house, the woman a younger version of the one kissing Doger, the man a spitting image of Steve, just with a receding hairline and a different nose. More frames sat on each of the bedside tables on either side of Steve’s enormous bed, the gold frames popping against the dark wall and fluffy white bedding. 

The huge windows from the living room carried into his room but the curtains were pulled, leaving the room dark and cozy, lit with just enough of the city light to make everything feel warm. An easel and stool sat in front of the windows, a small table housing a coffee cup full of pencils and paintbrushes, a messy set of charcoals. 

“Wow,” Evie said softly, walking forward as Steve tugged her into the room. He shut the door and rubbed nervously at his upper arms, shifting his feet under his huge frame. “Is this your mom?” she asked, gesturing to the picture of the smiling couple. 

“Yeah, her and my dad before he went to war. That’s the house I grew up in, in Brooklyn. My best friend, that’s him-,” Steve pointed to the laughing man without an arm. “Grew up in the house next door.” 

“That’s Bucky?” 

“Mhmm. And, uh, this was my unit from when I was in Iraq. This is Sam.” He gestured to the dark skinned man next to him in the picture. “That’s how we met. Sam was pararescue and I was in the field, but we were still in the same company.”

“You never really talk about your service,” Evie said softly, linking her fingers through his and making her way to the bed. Steve shrugged, sitting on the edge of the bed with her and smiling when she groaned and collapsed back into the fluffy bedding, the white all but engulfing her tiny frame. “I’m sorry, we’re trying to be serious, but this is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in.” 

“You’re cute.” He tickled her sides and laughed as she giggled and squirmed away from him. She propped her head onto her hand as she leaned on her elbow, eyes kind and curious. “There’s not really anything to tell, really. I was over there for about a year and a half before my tour was up, and I used Shield to help me cope with civilian life. All my characters are people I either served with, or met while serving. It helped ground me, keep me in the present day instead of keeping my head in the war.” 

Evie nodded as he spoke, reaching for his hand and kissing his fingers. 

“That makes sense. I’m glad you had something like that. A lot of people don’t.” 

She didn’t miss the way his hands were starting to tremble. 

“Hey, come here.” She pulled him down into a tight hug, Steve burying his face in her neck and taking a shuddering breath. She raked her fingers through his hair, cooing softly into his ear, holding his shaking shoulders tight. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to relax into her touch. “It’s hard, sometimes, to talk about it.” 

“I understand completely. It’s okay, I promise. You don’t have to put up a front for me, okay? This is what I’m here for.” 

He nodded and pulled away to give her a soft kiss. 

“Thank you, honey.” He sat up and pulled his shirt off, wiggling around a little to get his pants off while Evie shed her bra and pants, clad in just a pair of rosy colored boy shorts that hugged her ass. 

“Can I tell you a secret that sober Evie is gonna be mad at me for telling you?” she asked as she wormed under the covers, humming happily. 

“What’s that?”

“I really wanna have a threesome,” she whispered before tugging the blankets over her head. 

“Hey now, you don’t get to hide after saying something like that. Explain, please.” Steve got under the covers with her and tugged them back over both their heads, laying his head on the same pillow as hers and kissing her nose. 

“It doesn’t really matter to me if it’s a guy or a girl,” she said softly, blushing hard. “Ya girl is painfully bisexual, Steve.” 

“So is your boyfriend.” 

“No way.” Evie’s eyes widened and a huge smile spread across her face as Steve nodded. 

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but Buck and I used to sleep together in high school. And college, too, I guess. He was a lot more comfortable with his sexuality than I was, and he kinda helped me accept that it was okay to like guys and girls.” 

“Did you guys ever date?” 

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head, hair getting stuck in the blankets. “I love Bucky to death, but not romantically. Bucky’s more of a no strings attached kinda guy, always has been, and it was always just physical between us.” 

“I never would’ve guessed you were bi.” 

“I mean, it’s not something I openly broadcast, but there’s a reason my first comic character is so vocally bisexual.” 

“This is the best news,” Evie said, grinning and burying her face into the pillow. “God, you’re the best. I- I lo- I really care about you, Steve.” 

His heart swelled with her unspoken declaration, the three words getting caught in his throat before he coughed and kissed her softly, sweetly, his breath warm on her cheeks. 

“I love you, too, Evie.” 


	8. BBQ Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut at the beginning!!  
> Then we finally have Evie meeting all Steve's band of buddies. Hoorah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your encouraging and lovely comments. They're so appreciated. Thank you guys so so much. It means so much to me that you're willing to take the time to comment and leave kudos<3

“I love you, too, Evie.” 

Steve’s words were accompanied by  a shy smile, his cheeks flushing pink as Evie tried not to stare at him with her mouth open. It didn’t really work, but she tried. 

“You love me?” 

“Of course I do.” He nosed along the crease of her jaw, lips just barely brushing her skin as he pulled her into his arms, legs tangling with hers. “How could I not?” 

“I can think of a couple reasons.” 

He shook his head, dropping his hands to cup her ass appreciatively, a soft moan slipping through her lips at the gesture. 

“You’re so hard on yourself, honey,” he murmured, kissing gently down her neck and lapping at the pool of her collarbone. 

“I just- don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She looped her arms around his neck and sighed, biting her lower lip to keep from moaning as his teeth sank into her skin. 

“What do you wanna talk about, then?” he asked, voice muffled slightly. 

“I mean, I’d rather not be talking at all.” She lifted her knee and rubbed gently at the bulge between his legs, hinting at what she’d honestly rather be doing. 

“Mmm, no talking. What’re we gonna do instead, babydoll?” 

“I could always suck your cock.” 

“So brassy,” he chuckled, dragging the tip of his nose against the seam of her tits. “But you’re also stoned out of your mind, so sexy times are gonna be a no go tonight, sweetheart.” 

“I’m not too stoned to consent.” 

“Evie, we’re not going to do anything without you being 100% in the right headspace.” 

“I’m barely even high,” she argued, confused at the fact this was happening. She’d never had to convince someone to let her suck their cock before. “Look in my eyes and honestly tell me I’m high, and I won’t say another word about it.” 

Steve sighed and sat up, moving so he hovered above her on his elbow, one arm tucked under the pillow beneath her head, the other resting on the other side of her on the bed. His eyes wandered her face, teeth rolling his bottom lip around in a worried circle as he tried to gauge her level of stoned.  Her eyes weren’t red, just his favorite shade of hazel surrounded by unstreaked whites, and she looked back at him with surprising clarity. 

“I told you I’m not high.” She smiled triumphantly and reached for the hem of his boxers. “Guess who’s getting their dick sucked,” she sang, blinking up at him through her lashes and sending a hot wave of arousal through his spine. 

“Is it me?” he teased, letting her push him back into the pillows and wiggle between his legs, her thin fingers trailing over his ribs and abs. 

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner.” She scooted up to straddle his waist, sinking to her elbows and pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along his chest; his head fell back into the feather pillows with a quiet moan. God, he loved that, loved being able to just relax and feel the pleasure, feel his girl explore his body and do whatever she wanted to him. 

“Daddy?” she asked softly, hesitating with her lips over her belly button, eyes blown wide and hungry. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He reached down and cupped the side of her face; she leaned into his touch like a cat, humming contently as his fingers tangled into her hair. 

“Can- will you-,” she huffed and shook her head to clear the fog. “Will you fuck me tonight?” 

Steve’s cock gave a visible twitch at the thought, a dark spot forming on his favorite pair of Calvin Klein boxers as the head blurted a bead of precome. 

“If that’s what you want.” He thumbed over the soft skin of her lower lip, trying not to think about how badly he wanted them around his aching cock. “I’ll give you whatever you want, honey. You know that.” 

She nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to the soft skin below his belly button. 

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, snapping the waistband of his boxers against his skin and making him hiss. 

“Then I’ll fuck you.” 

Humming, she nodded again and mouthed at the hard line of his cock, tugging his underwear down until the tip of his cock peeked out, hard and flushed against his skin. She slid her tongue along the underside, kissing away a drop of salty precum as he groaned above her, knocking his head into the pillows and tossing a thick forearm over his eyes. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moaned, fist clenching as she tugged his boxers all the way off. 

As a twenty two year old woman, Evie had seen her fair amount of dicks, both solicited and unsolicited. And she’d never thought to describe any of them as  _ pretty;  _ Brock had been a smidge below average, a wide mushroom head flaring above an uneven circumcision scar, the guy she’d dated in high school had been six inches  _ exactly  _ (he’d measured) and had no idea what to do with what he had. But, as she yanked Steve’s boxers off his ankles and his cock smacked against his washboard abs, thick and pink and already leaking pearly liquid onto his soft skin, pretty was the only word she could think of. 

“Holy shit,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers slowly around the base, angling his cock up so she could swipe her lips against the head. His skin was like white hot velvet, so smooth and silky, the weight of his cock heavy in her hands. “You expect to fit this inside of me how?” 

Steve barked out a surprised laugh and moved his arm in favor of running his long fingers through her hair. 

“It’s not that big,” he said sheepishly, and Evie just arched one of her eyebrows. 

“Pretty sure your dick is the size of my forearm. You’re packing a good eight inches here, babe. That’s like a tennis racket handle.” 

He laughed again and blushed, the pretty red coloring blooming across his collarbones and chest. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” he said softly, already moving to sit up. “I’m perfectly okay with stopping here.” 

Evie shook her head and moved so she could push his chest back down into the pillows, her hair dangling like a curtain around them. 

“I’m a sucker for a good challenge.” She scooted back down between his legs and smirked. “No pun intended.” 

Steve opened his mouth to protest her joke, an insult already on his lips, but the noise died in his throat as she pushed the head on his cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around and hollowing her cheeks to add some pressure. He whimpered, mumbling incoherently.

“Fuck, honey, that’s good,” he praised as she sunk down further, lips tightened like a vise around the shaft. “You’re so good.” 

She preened at the praise, loosening the suction of her cheeks a little to open the back of her throat like four years of high school choir as a Soprano had taught her. Steve moaned brokenly and tangled his thick fingers into her hair, his hips thrusting up just a little as her lips pressed against the clean shaved skin below his cock. 

“Sweetheart,” he panted, eyes rolling into the back of his head as she massaged the underside with her tongue. “Holy fuckin’- Jesus Mary ‘n Joseph, you’re killing me.” 

Pulling off with a wet pop, Evie circled her fist and jerked his cock a couple times, watching his abs contract and clench with every flick of her wrist. 

“Is that a Brooklyn accent I hear?” she teased, swirling her tongue around the head just light enough to watch goosebumps break out along his skin. 

“Born and raised,” he grunted, loosening his grip in her hair to shakily stroke her cheek. “God, you look so pretty with a cock in your mouth. Fuckin’ gorgeous.” 

Goosebumps prickled along her skin as she sank back down onto his cock, humming in the back of her throat so he could feel the vibrations of her voice, his lower back arching just slightly off the mattress. 

“Honey, fuck, honey you gotta stop.” He groaned and pulled her up so he could kiss her, tongue hot and wet in her mouth, licking the taste of himself out of her mouth. “I’m gonna come down your throat if you keep up like that.” His hands quickly ripped apart her clothes, impatient fingers making quick work of buttons and clasps until she was as naked as he was.

Matching him back kiss for kiss, Evie let Steve flip them over, one hand pooling in the small of her back, the other sneaking between her legs to nudge a knuckle against her clit. 

“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he growled, kissing down her neck and across the swell of her breasts; he trailed the tip of his tongue across the edge of her nipple, smirking open mouthed at her desperate whines before finally giving in to her pleas and sucking hard on the bud. She moaned and ran her fingers through his thick hair, squirming against his lap, his cock bumping wetly against her stomach. 

“Please,” she begged, digging her nails into his obscene shoulders as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth. Her pussy clenched uncomfortably, so desperate to be filled, a dull heat spreading through her guts and into her chest. “God, please fuck me, daddy.” 

“Don’t think God has anything to do with it,” he purred, sitting up and digging through his bedside table for his unopened box of condoms. He quickly checked the expiration date as he shed the plastic and ripped it open. The foil packets tumbled out and spilled over Evie’s chest and they both blurted out snorts of laughter, Steve releasing a blush that had nothing to do with how hard his cock was. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” he admitted quietly, scooping the condoms off his girlfriend and tossing all but one onto the floor. He tore the packet open with his teeth and gave his stiff cock a few hard strokes before rolling it on and pinching the air bubble out. “Safe word?” 

“Um. Uh, Hydra?” 

Steve nodded and scooted down to line himself up. 

“I’m not going to stop unless you use it,” he said, voice low and full of gravel. Evie shivered under the intensity of his gaze and promise. “If you need me to stop, use it. Need me to slow down, give me a red, okay? Otherwise I’m not stopping. You understand?”

Evie nodded desperately and tugged him down for another hot kiss, his lips searing against hers, her legs dropping open so he could fit his slim hips between them. She took a deep breath through her nose and forced herself to relax into his silky cotton sheets as he probed her entrance, his shoulders trembling as he pushed into her slowly. 

Oh,  _ fuck,  _ it’d been so long since she’d had anything inside her, let alone something as thick and hot as Steve’s monster dick, and she was arching up into her chest before he even made it past the head. She bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, scratching thin red lines down his muscular back, legs twitching on either side of his hips. God, it was so much and not enough at the same time, his cock stretching and filling every inch of her, so much deeper than she’d ever been touched. She was so full, so achingly and deliciously full, her stomach clenching, swallowing over and over, vaguely feeling like he was pushing through her entire body and nudging her throat. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked huskily, his entire face flushed red, a thick vein popping against his forehead as he struggled not to move. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Jesus.” He laughed, almost incredulously, and dropped a kiss to her lips. His arms were shaking where they were supporting him on either side of her head, and she could see his abs tensing and relaxing above where they were joined. “What’s your color?”

“Fuck, ‘m so green, daddy. So okay. Doesn’t hurt. Just- fuck me, please. Please fuck me, so fucking hard. Want you to wreck me, daddy.” 

Steve still took his first couple of thrusts slow, letting her adjust to his fucking obscene cock, before he shifted further up on the bed, sitting back on his ankles and grabbing each of her ankles in one strong hand; he dragged her down the bed and threw her legs over his shoulders, his heels resting just against his collarbones as he started to pick up the pace, his teeth digging into his split lip. 

“So fucking good for me,” he growled, practically bending her in half as he changed the angle to fuck down into her; the movement made his cock drill into her spot and she cried out, scratching down his arms as he nailed it again and again and again. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” she whined, squirming in his arms, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. “More, God, more!” 

Steve honest to God  _ growled,  _ snapping his hips faster, his heavy balls slapping eagerly against her ass as he fucked her harder, faster, anything she begged him so sweetly for. His big bed started tapping against the wall hard enough to chip the paint and Evie was vaguely aware of the fact she was crying, but she couldn’t do anything to stop it. One of Steve’s enormous hands grabbed the headboard to give himself something to shove back against, the other reaching down to cup her breast, his thumb rubbing torturously against her aching nipple until she was begging, for more or for him to stop, she didn’t know. 

She could feel the heat building in her stomach, her toes curling against his shoulders, whipping her head back and forth, crying and gasping for air as he took her apart piece by piece. 

“You like this, huh?” he grunted, pinching her nipple between his thumb and index finger. The tiny burst of pain just made her climb higher, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “God, look at you. Taking my cock so good, fuckng begging for it like a little slut. My sweet little slut, all mine. Aren’t you? Fucking say it.” 

“I’m yours,” she gasped, arching her back tighter when his fingers tightened around her nipple. “All yours, daddy.” 

He hummed and moved his hand to push his fingers into the hot space of her mouth, gathering up spit and slathering it across her sensitive nipples, a string of drool connecting his hand to her lips. 

“God, you’re filthy.” He hitched her higher and started fucking  _ down  _ into her hole, changing the angle entirely and making her scream. She hiccuped and tried to clear her raw throat, trying desperately to communicate to him that something was gonna happen. She was either going to come or die, and she wasn’t entirely sure which one would happen first. He picked up on the rhythmic clenching of her walls, watched her squirm and beg under his touches, and sped up, nailing into her harder and harder. His eyes darkened even further and he reached up to close his palm around her exposed throat, not hard enough to restrict her breathing, but enough for her to feel the raw strength behind his touch, to feel his heavy presence, to ground her and comfort her. She was flying out of control, her mind climbing higher and higher, like someone had cut her balloon strings; she couldn’t stop the climb, couldn’t control what her body was chasing, and he was reminding her he was there,  _ he  _ was in control, was pushing her towards release and would catch her the second she fell off the brink, the moment she crested the wave. 

His grip tightened on her neck and that was enough, her entire world narrowing to the single point of  _ Steve,  _ of his touch, his smell, the rumble of his voice interrupted by the staccato of his pumping hips, before everything blew out and expanded into a wall of white. 

…………………

Evie woke up to soft kisses across her face. She was still in Steve’s room, bundled in one of his smoky smelling shirts and layers of blankets and tucked against his big chest. He was kissing along her forehead and cooing gently, unaware she was awake. 

“I love you so much. Thank you for giving me a chance. God, can you imagine if I hadn’t broken your phone that night at the gallery? I probably wouldn’t even be in New York right now. Probably would’ve moved over to Europe and backpacked, maybe dropped my company. Who the fuck knows. You saved me, honey. Made me feel like this is my home again. You make this whole place light up, make everything bright again. I can’t thank you enough.” 

She could feel herself blushing and shifted around to let him know she was awake, a twinge of soreness between her legs making her groan. 

“Morning, sleepyhead. Well, technically it’s still night. Whatever. How’re you feeling?” 

She hummed happily and buried herself into his chest, trying to hide the smile breaking out across her face. She hadn’t felt this good, this relaxed and truly blissed and fucked out, in God knows how long. 

“Yeah?” Steve laughed and kissed her head. “You hungry or anything? I got some granola bars and water while you were out.” 

“I’m okay,” she whispered, surprised by how raw her voice sounded. He chuckled. 

“I’ll make you some tea when we get up,” he said softly, running his fingers through her hair. “You feeling okay?” 

“I’m so good, Steve. I can’t- thank you.” 

He blushed and kissed her nose. 

“Thank  _ you. _ For trusting me enough to let me get you to a place like that. I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, Steve.” 

He pecked a series of quick kisses against her lips before snuggling them deeper into the blankets. “You wanna go back to sleep, honey?” 

They were both out in a couple of minutes. 

…………………..

“Evie, honey, you almost ready?” Steve poked his head into the bedroom, a smirk dancing across his lips as Evie spun in another circle in front of his mirror. 

“Does this look okay?” she asked for the millionth time, gesturing down to her dark jeans and black undershirt, paired with a checkered red and black flannel and tan booties. 

“You look beautiful, I promise.” He was dressed casually in jeans and a red cotton t-shirt that looked at least one size too small, paired with a backwards Boston Bruins hat. Evie had never seen him out of his work attire, and it rattled her a little to see him looking so casual and still so stomach achingly hot.

“Is it too fancy?” 

“No, honey, it’s not. It’s perfect. We’re gonna be late if you keep fretting over it.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him and finally vacated the room after swiping on a swish of mascara and some light foundation. No reason for Steve’s friends to know her acne carried into college. 

Nat and Clint were both already up and seated at Steve’s island with bowls of cereal, Clint sipping on a big cup of black coffee. 

“Morning,” Nat said, smirking behind a glass of orange juice. 

“Morning.” She made to grab a mug from the cupboard but Steve tapped her shoulder and handed her a cup of coffee, already fixed exactly how she liked it. 

“You’re amazing,” she breathed, taking a grateful sip. 

“Yeah, we heard that last night,” Clint grumbled around a mouthful of cereal. She almost dropped her coffee as Steve barked out a loud laugh, his right hand reaching up to cup his left pec. 

“Oops,” he chuckled, not sounding the least bit apologetic as he drank from his own coffee. 

“I didn’t know geriatrics could get down like that,” Clint continued, making Evie flush red. “Props to you for not breaking a hip, Stevie.” He raised a hand for a high five and Steve laughed again before slapping his palm against Clint’s. 

Evie got herself a bowl of cereal and slid into the third bar seat as Steve started getting together the things they would need for Bucky’s- a cooler full of Steve’s favorite beer, plus a 24 pack of cans, his marinated ribs, and a slew of baseball mitts, footballs, and baseballs. 

“You taking the whole field with us, babe?” she asked as he dug yet another baseball bat out of the closet by the front door. He shrugged and grinned at her. 

“Maybe.” 

“Do you need any help?” 

He shook his head and instructed them to just toss their bowls into the dishwasher when they were done, running through a checklist in his head to make sure they had everything before he packed it all away in a series of bags. He carried them all to the elevator, despite Evie’s insisting that she could help, and they all clambered in and headed down to Steve’s car. He got the car started before loading the trunk and climbing in and apologizing as Doger clambered into the backseat with Clint and Nat. 

“Doger, sit,” he said firmly, the dog immediately sinking down and nestling onto the seat between Evie’s roommates. “Sorry, guys. He just gets excited.” 

“It’s okay,” Clint said, scratching behind Doger’s brown ears lovingly. “You’re such a good boy.” 

Steve smiled warmly at the backseat before driving Nat and Clint home, offering them a wave as they walked into the house, hands linked between them. 

“How’re you doing, sweetheart?” he asked as they started driving out of the city. 

“I’m a little nervous, if I’m being honest,” she said softly, sliding her fingers through his where his hands rested on the console between them. 

“Don’t be nervous.” He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Everyone is going to love you.” 

“What about Peggy? Or Bucky? These people are so important to you. I don’t want to fuck anything up.” 

“You won’t,” Steve said earnestly. “You’re wonderful, and they’re going to see that just as plainly as I do.” 

“But-,” Evie was cut off by her phone ringing, a frown coloring her face as her mom’s ringtone blared through the car,  _ Birthgiver  _ flashing on the screen along with a picture of her mom from last Mother’s day. “Hold that thought.” 

She swiped the green phone icon and lifted the phone to her ear, shooting Steve a grateful smile as he turned the radio down a couple notches. 

“Hello?” 

“Evie, sweetie!” Her mom’s voice was too loud over the phone and Evie fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Hi, momma. What’s up?” 

“Well, it’s the weekend, so your dad and I thought we’d shoot ya a call,” she said in her thick midwestern accent. “You working?” 

“Today is my day off.” 

“That’s pretty nice. Whatcha doing on your day off, then? Probably sleeping.” 

“I’m actually going to a cookout, mom.

“With Clint and Nat?” 

“With Steve.” The second the words slipped out of her mouth, she shut her eyes and spit out a quiet  _ fuck _ , knocking her head against the headrest. She’d specifically avoided telling her parents anything related to Steve, and now she’d just fucked up all her hard work. 

“Who’s Steve?” Her mom’s voice turned sharp and Evie groaned. 

“He’s, uh-,” 

“Evelynn Grace, don’t you dare tell me you’re seeing someone without telling your father and I.” 

Fuck fuck fuck, the full name came out. She was so screwed. 

“Mom, I think you’re breaking up-,” 

“Don’t pull that shit with me, Evelynn. Who’s this young man you’re apparently seeing?”

Young man. Ha.

“He’s just- someone I’ve been hanging out with.” 

“Are you dating him?” 

“Mom.” 

“I’m just asking, honey, no need to get so defensive. No, Kent, she said she’s with some boy named Steve. That’s what I’m asking right now! Your father wants to know if you’re dating him.” 

Evie huffed and slowly counted to five to keep her thoughts straight. Did she tell her parents the truth and risk them wanting to fly out to NY to meet Steve? Or did she lie and become a total hypocrite and do exactly what she got upset with Steve for doing not three days ago? 

“Yes, mom, I’m dating him.” 

“Well how long has that been going on?” 

“A couple of months,” she grumbled, hearing her dad’s loud exclamations in the background. 

“And you didn’t think to text or call to tell your family what’s going on?” 

“Mom, I’ve been super busy, okay? I’m working almost seventy hours a week on top of school and everything else. It kind of slipped my mind.” 

“When do we get to meet him? We weren’t planning to come visit until Christmas, but we can come sooner if you want.”

“You really don’t have to do that.” 

“Considering we never got to meet Brock before you dumped him on the street, I think we really do have to do that.” 

“I never wanted you guys to meet Brock.” 

“That’s the problem, Evelynn, ever since you went out to that school, you’re so secretive. You never call, never text. Just leave your dad and I in the dark.” 

“Mom, I’m not having this conversation right now,” Evie snapped, feeling a cold nose nudging at the side of her head and reaching back automatically to pat Doger’s head. “I’m not being secretive, I’m being independent. I’m dating this really great guy and I’m happy. I’m passing all my classes and working my butt off. There. Now you’re up to date.” 

“I don’t much appreciate your tone.” 

“And I don’t appreciate you nitpicking everything I do. I call you every week and then all you guys do is complain that I never communicate. Do you know how annoying that is?”

“Well, I just hope when you have kids someday, they at least give you the time of day and understand how important it is to call their mother. I’m absolutely heartbroken that we’ve heard nothing about this boyfriend and you’ve been seeing him for months.” 

“Mom, I  _ call you every Sunday.  _ I didn’t tell you about Steve because it’s super casual and I didn’t want to get you all excited if it wasn’t going anywhere, okay?” 

“I’m just saying-,” 

“Look, I gotta go, okay? Steve and I are at his friends house and I need to help carry everything inside. I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.” 

There was a beat of silence and then, “Okay, fine. I love you, too. Please be safe.” 

Evie just grunted a confirmation and hung up, letting out a long, drawn out groan once the call dropped. 

“I take it that was your mom?” Steve asked conversationally as he navigated the highway. According to his GPS, they were still a good twenty minutes from Bucky’s place. 

“Ugh, yes.” 

“And I take it you guys don’t really get along?” 

“Not really.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“She just never really acknowledges the fact I’m an adult, ya know? She still wants to keep me under her thumb and know my every move, even though in thousands of miles away and doing my own thing.” 

Steve nodded along to her rants, interjecting when needed and offering her hand and Doger kisses when there was a lull in the conversation. It seemed like only a couple of minutes passed before Steve was pulling into a wide driveway and parking in front of a two story brick house. It looked open and woodsy, a wooden fence wrapping around the spacious front yard and disappearing behind the house, a copper colored tin roof glimmering in the fall light and littered with red, yellow, and orange leaves from the scattering of oak trees sitting in the front yard. Evie could already smell the grill. 

There were a few other cars already parked in the gravel drive- a sporty looking red Dodge Charger, complete with black racing stripes and a spoiler, a practical looking powder blue Subaru Outback, and a compact Ford Focus looking car with European plates and a name Evie couldn’t pronounce. 

“Looks like everyone’s here,” Steve said, popping his door open and releasing an excited Doger from the back. Evie hesitantly opened her door and helped him unload the ribs and beer from the trunk. She followed him up the set of stairs leading to a rounded front door with a tiny square window in the middle and an antique looking metal handle. He knocked twice with his elbow before wedging the handle down and opening the door with his hip. 

“About fucking time you showed up, Rogers!” 

Steve just grinned and moved further into the house, almost falling over as Doger bolted into the house and out a pair of French doors that led to a deck and spacious backyard. 

“Some of us live in the city and not in the middle of butt fuck nowhere,” he retorted, kicking the door shut behind him once Evie stepped in and took in her surroundings. The entryway led straight to an open kitchen with shiny tile countertops and stainless steel appliances; the living room was right next to it, filled with a large sectional leather couch and a TV screen the size of her room and an entertainment system loaded with more consoles than even Steve had. There were people milling around the living room, some hanging out on the wide deck where a grill and egg shaped smoker were chugging out food. The kitchen counters were loaded with appetizer type foods, more chips than Evie had seen in her entire life, copious amounts of beer and hard liquors, a lone veggie tray by the stove, and a box of pastries Evie recognized from the cafe she worked at. 

“We’re just glad you’re here,” a soft voice, thickly laden with a British accent, said, and the most beautiful woman had ever seen walked forward to relieve Steve of the ribs and give him a tight hug. Short pin curled hair framed her heart shaped face, gentle eyes and high cheekbones making her look gorgeous and terrifying at the same time, a smear of red lipstick and dark eyeliner highlighted her features and made her red blouse pop that much more. 

Steve wound his thick arms tight around her waist and buried his face in her dark hair, rumbling out a gruff, “Good to see you, Pegs.” And Evie’s stomach dropped through the floor. So that was Peggy, his ex  _ fiance _ and easily the definition of intimidatingly beautiful. Wonderful. 

“Hey, let ‘im go, English. You got your turn.” A short woman with equally dark hair nudged Peggy aside and tugged Steve into a loose one-armed hug. “How ya doing, Rogers?” 

“Good, Ang. And you?” 

“Well, we’re back in the States for the foreseeable future, so I can’t complain.” 

“Peggy Carter, staying in the United States for more than a weekend? How will sustain her tea addiction?” Steve gasped, laying a hand over his chest in mock surprise. Peggy ran her tongue across her lower lip and leveled him with a look, making him laugh loudly and tug her in for another hug. 

“At least I’m not addicted to beer, like some people,” she retorted, slapping a skinny hand against his abs. “Much more of that brew and you’ll start looking like the bottle.” 

Steve lifted his shirt up to reveal his frustratingly perfect abs and shrugged. 

“I think I’m okay.” 

“See, that’s why I’m a lesbian,” the other woman said, making a face as Steve dropped his shirt. “Too many lines on men.” 

“Evie seems to like my lines just fine,” Steve said, pulling Evie under his arm despite her weak protests. 

Both Peggy and the other woman’s eyes lit up. 

“Oh, is this her?” Peggy asked excitedly, already reaching in for a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. You’re all Steve’s been talking about for weeks. I’m Peggy, and this is my girlfriend, Angie.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Evie said weakly after a hug with Angie. “Steve’s told me a lot about you guys.” 

“All good things, I hope,” Peggy laughed, placing a soft hand on Steve’s arm that made Evie’s stomach flip over. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“You wanna help me load this beer in the fridge, Eves?” Steve asked, squeezing her waist. “We’ll be back in a second.” Steve led them away from the two women and gently stroked her face, concern written all over his face. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, popping the fridge open and loading in the cans of beer without taking his eyes off her. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You look like you’re about to throw up.” 

“That’s just my face, Steve.” 

“Evie.” 

She sighed and rolled a can between her hands. 

“It’s just weird, knowing you were engaged to someone that beautiful. I know there’s nothing going on. I just- it’s still weird. She’s gorgeous, Steve. And you were gonna marry her.” 

“And now I love you. I know it’s weird, meeting my ex and all that, but you don’t ever have to question whether or not you’re enough for me. You’re more than enough, and that’s all that matters.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise.” He slid the last of the cans in and pulled her in for a kiss. “Are you okay to go meet everyone else?” 

She nodded and he kissed her one more time before leading her back into the living room where Peggy and Angie were talking with a dark skinned man and what looked like a viking. 

“Evie, this is Sam and his fiance Maria, and Thor,” Steve said, pointing to each man in turn. Sam smiled warmly with his arm around a pale woman with strikingly dark hair, and Thor raised a huge beer in greeting. “Guys, this is Evie.” 

“About time we finally get to meet her,” Sam said, extending his hand out to her. She shook his hand and smiled shyly, accepting a hug from Maria. 

“She’s just as gorgeous as you said, Steven,” Thor boomed, picking up Evie’s hand and kissing it. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“It’s, uh, nice to meet you too.” Evie blushed as he kissed her hand again, bright blue eyes flickering up to meet hers. A strand of his long blonde hair swung forward to frame his temple and Evie gulped. Why were all of Steve’s friends straight out of a magazine?

“Okay, buddy, that’s enough.” Steve batted Thor away and wrapped his arm protectively around Evie’s waist. “Val not coming?” 

Thor shook his head sadly. “Alas, no. She was called away to work and won’t be back until the next week.” 

“Next week,” Sam corrected gently. “Thor’s Norwegian,” he explained, and the blonde grinned. “So sometimes his English gets a little iffy.” 

“Ah, but I’ve made much progress, have I not, birdman?” 

“Birdman?” Evie asked, and Steve buried a laugh into his beer. Sam glowered. 

“Steve thought it would be funny to model all his comic book characters after us,” he said grumpily. “I got Falcon.” 

“Isn’t he Captain America’s sidekick?” 

“The one in the white and red tights when everybody else gets normal costumes? Yup.” 

“Aw, don’t be a bitch, Wilson,” a husky voice said from the deck. A wall of a man walked inside, his shoulders nearly the same width as the door, a tray of grilled meat in his hands, one skin and bone, the other looking like it was made of some sort of metal. “At least you’re in the comics.” 

“I’m the only one without actual superpowers,” he argued and the man snorted, moving into the light of the kitchen. Evie’s mouth actually fell open. He had the same Dorito body as Steve, his shoulders broad and muscular and his waist thin and sculpted, but he was more lean than Steve, more loose muscle and slinky looking, his limbs longer and looking more flexible. He was dressed casually in a blue button down and black jeans, his long, dark hair pushed out of his face by a pair of sunglasses, the ends of it brushing his perfectly square jaw and bulging shoulders. He set the tray on the counter and rolled both his sleeves up to his elbows, an arousing image anyway, but even more so when it exposed his thick forearms, one metal, one skin. 

“Just like you’re the only pain in the ass,” he said, leaning back against the counter and folding his beautiful arms. Sam flipped him off and he just laughed, his harsh face relaxing into deep smile lines, a dimple popping out in the middle of his chin. His plump full lips pulled into a wide smile, revealing rows of perfectly white teeth and sharp canines. God, he was hot.

“Buck,” Steve said, making the man’s cool grey blue eyes flicker to the pair of them. “C’mere.” 

He easily crossed the room in just a couple strides and Evie forced herself to stop gawking at the gorgeously thick muscles of his thighs, the denim of his jeans looking ready to split. 

“This is Evie,” Steve said, grinning widely. “Eves, this is Bucky.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Bucky said, his voice like velvet, and Evie tried not to melt into a puddle by his feet. 

“Nice to meet you, too,” she said softly, absent mindedly leaning into Steve’s bulk. “Thanks for having me.” 

“No problem. Stevie’s been ranting about you for the past milenium, so it’s nice to finally put a name to the face.” He smiled charmingly and Evie’s knees felt weak. “You hungry?” 

“I- I mean, kinda, yeah.” 

“Good. Cause I just grilled enough to feed a small army, and that’s just for Steve.” 

“Hey!” Steve said, blushing a little. 

“Not my fault you eat like a pig, Rogers,” Bucky said, smirking and making his way into the kitchen. “Want a drink, Evie?” 

“That’d be amazing.” She was going to need a drink if she was going to be surrounded by all these supermodels all day. 

“What’s your poison? I’ve got bourbon, whiskey, beer, uh, some fruity shit Wanda brought that everyone just pretends to like.” 

“Suck a dick, Barnes,” a woman Evie recognized as the receptionist from Steve’s office said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Evie usually drinks Ices,” Steve said and Evie blushed when Bucky gave her a flat look. 

“Fruity shit it is, then,” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment and mixing her a drink with pink lemonade and strawberry Kinky. He handed the glass to her with his left hand, the metal one, and Evie couldn’t help but stare a little as the plates glinted dully in the light. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Tony said from behind her, making her jump. He patted her back and pointed to Bucky’s arm. “Designed it myself. Made from aluminum alloy and titanium.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Stark, you made me an arm. We get it.” 

“Not just an arm,” Tony continued. “A fully functioning prosthetic with temperature and weight control. Not to mention the plates system and pressure sensors.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and popped the cap off a bottle of beer with said hand, making Tony squawk a little. 

“It makes a good bottle opener, too.” He smirked and winked at Evie before heading back outside. Steve came between her and Tony and led her outside to the deck and the huge backyard where Doger was playing with a grey three legged pitbull and a small orange cat with a missing eye. 

“I’ve got a thing for rescues with amputations,” Bucky said, following her gaze to the animals. “If you couldn’t tell. The pitty is Tashka, and the cat is Mad Eye.” He smiled and looked to her. “Get it? Like Mad Eye Moody from Harry Potter?” 

“That’s the most perfect name for a cat I’ve ever heard.” 

“See, I like you,” he said, laughing. “You have any pets?” 

“I have a kitty named Diana, after Wonder Woman.” 

“Beautiful. You ever think of getting another?” 

“Sometimes,” she said, watching the two dogs racing around each other. 

“Well, I volunteer at one of the shelters in the city, and we’ve got a lot of great rescues if you ever decide you need another baby.” 

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind, thank you.” 

He smiled warmly and took another drink of his beer with his metal hand. He caught her staring and his smile stretched higher. 

“I’m sorry, I-,” 

“No, it’s okay. Has Steve told you anything about it?” 

She shook her head and he sighed a little. 

“We got into an accident when we were on our second tour in Afghanistan,” he said softly, watching the dogs play. “Somebody strapped an IUD to the bottom of our van, and I sliced the hell out of my arm trying to get Sam outta the wreckage, went all the way to the bone. Ended up getting infected and lost it up to the shoulder. Tony helped design the prosthetic once I got home, and now I’ve got a dope ass metal arm.” He laughed and the sound was infectious enough to make Evie smile. “He made he some skin grafts for it, little sleeves I can use so it’ll match my skin, but the metal is so much cooler.” 

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, and he waved his free hand at her. 

“Nah, don’t be. Yeah, I lost my arm, but I got to serve my country and meet my best friends. I don’t regret a second of it.” 

“Thank you, for your service. That takes a lot to just make it through training, let alone two tours overseas.” 

“Thank you for your support. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but definitely the most fulfilling.” 

“Is that how you and Steve met?” she asked, glancing over to where her boyfriend was talking with Thor, Tony, and Wanda. She could see Sam and Maria bringing plates out from the kitchen, along with assorted snacks. 

Bucky shook his head. 

“Steve and I met when were kids,” he said. “Stupid punk kept getting into fights in elementary school and I ended up helping him out of one once. He bitched me out for it, said his didn’t want my charity, and my dumb ass decided that was a good quality in a best friend.” He laughed and shot Steve a fond look. Evie followed his grey eyes in time for Doger to stop playing with his dog friend, ears pressed flat against his head as he let out two sharp barks in the direction of the deck, a noise Evie had never heard him make before. 

She had enough time to glance at the panicked dog and back to the group of people before Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his beer dropping from his hand and shattering against the deck. 

Doger raced up the deck and skidded behind Steve, using his furry body to catch Steve’s body as he collapsed to the ground, his arms already starting to shake. He braced Steve’s weight and scooted up his back so Steve could lay on his back, the whites of his eyes facing the sky.

“Fuck.” Bucky dropped his own beer and ran to Steve’s side, him and Sam ushering everyone away from Steve as he started seizing, his back undulating up and down, legs and arms practically vibrating. Doger whined and barked again, pacing the area behind Steve’s head. 

“Evie,” Bucky said, not even looking at her as he knelt by Steve’s side. “I need you to sit where Doger is standing and keep Steve’s head still. If he throws up, you need to turn him to the side so he doesn’t choke himself.” 

She immediately followed his instructions and knelt down with her knees on either side of Steve’s head, gently cupping either side of his face and keeping his face forward. 

“Sam-,” 

“I’m already calling Erskine,” Sam said, putting his phone to his ear. 

“Peggy, can you call an ambulance? I’d take him in my truck but I’m not moving him without a stretcher.” 

Peggy nodded and led Angie away from them so she could make the call. 

“Evie,” Bucky said, repeating her name until she looked up from Steve’s spasming body to make eye contact. “You have to breathe. I know you’re worried and this is probably really scary, but you’re not going to be able to help him if you pass out.” 

“What do we do?” she asked, voice cracking and breaking. Bucky shook his head. 

“We just have to wait until his seizure stops. Sam’s calling his doctor so he can meet us at the hospital. General ambulance procedure lets two people ride in the back. You wanna go with me?” 

She nodded weakly, turning her attention back to Steve as he gasped desperately for air. 

“Prop his neck up a little,” Bucky instructed. “There ya go.” 

By the time Peggy and Sam returned, Steve’s spasms had slowed and stopped, his eyes closing finally as his body fell flat against the deck. 

“Bus is on it’s way,” Peggy said. “Less than ten minutes.” 

“What about Erskine?” 

“He’s coming from out of the city, but so are we, so he’ll be there the same time we are.” 

True to form, the ambulance took six and a half minutes to get to them, EMT’s rushing through the house and strapping Steve to a long stretcher. Evie’s stomach churned at the loose way Steve’s head rolled from side to side. Bucky put a calming hand on the small of her back and helped her into the back of the ambulance, where she sat by Steve’s head and held his hand. 

He had another seizure on the ride to the hospital, his body straining and fighting against his restraints, veins and tendons popping in his thick neck and forehead. She was crying by the time they wheeled him into the hospital to the examination room. 

Bucky stayed with her, directing her easily to a lounge on the floor Steve would be released to and sitting her down. He was the epitome of calm, handing her a styrofoam cup of water and talking to her in a low, soothing voice. It only took a couple of minutes for everyone else to find them, Sam holding Doger’s leash, the dog pacing anxiously and looking desperately for his owner. He tugged on his leash when he spotted Evie, refusing to stop until Sam let go; the dog all but bounded to her, lifting his paws to her knees and licking her face, his tail wagging happily for the first time since Steve had collapsed. 

“Hi, buddy,” she said softly, burying her face into his fur. 

“Has anyone called Sarah?” Angie asked, shifting to put her arm around Peggy. 

“I got it,” Bucky said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “She’s gonna freak out.” He shook his head dialed, standing up to pace in front on the windows as he spoke. 

Evie cooed and pet Doger until a nurse came into the lounge, glancing at a clipboard. 

“Is the family of Steven Rogers here?” she called. Bucky ended his phone call and stepped forward, motioning for Evie to follow him. She stood and glanced at him in confusion. 

“That’s us,” he lied calmly, crossing his thick arms over his wide chest like he was daring her to question it. She didn’t. 

“He’s asleep right now, but you can come back to visit. Are, um, all of you with him?” 

Sam and Peggy nodded. 

“Alright. There’s space in his room, if you’d all like to see him. He’s in 302.” She walked back through the doors and Maria spoke up. 

“I think Ang and I should stay out here,” she said, looking around the group. “I don’t think everyone has to be back there.” 

“I’ll just go back to see him for a moment and we can go home,” Peggy said, touching Angie’s hand. “James, you’ll keep us updated?” 

Bucky nodded. 

“Yeah, I’ll just do a stop in, too,” Sam said. Evie noticed how tired they all looked. “Do you think they’re keeping him overnight?” 

“Probably,” Bucky said, glancing at his watch. “It’s already kinda late.” 

Sam nodded and kissed Maria’s temple before they all walked back to Steve’s room, Doger sticking close to Evie’s side. 

Steve was laid up in a hospital gown, a series of wires and sensors strapped across his chest and his arms, an oxygen mask covering his lips and nose, the heart monitor beeping steadily next to his bed. He still had his calf high corgi socks on, and the sight made Evie smile. Peggy stuck to her word and hung around long enough to kiss Steve’s forehead and double check that Bucky would let them know if anything changed, pulling Evie in for a hug and saying it was good to meet her, despite the circumstances. Sam did the same, minus the forehead kiss, and said he’d stick around in the lobby until Steve’s mom showed up, so he could take her straight back. 

And then it was just her and Bucky. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, collapsing heavily into one of the plastic chairs next to Steve’s bed and rubbing the joint where his prosthetic met his shoulder. 

“Is it gonna gross you out if I take my arm off?” he asked, and Evie didn’t hesitate to shake her head. 

“Whatever makes you more comfortable.” 

He grunted out a thanks and unbuttoned the top half of his shirt, revealing lines of raised, angry red scarring along his left side. He pressed a button at the top of his arm and Evie heard a little click before the arm released from what looked like a series of electrical magnets on his stump. He sighed in relief and pulled the arm out of his shirt, setting it on the chair next to him and rolling his left shoulder. 

“That’s better,” he said, buttoning his shirt back up and relaxing a little more into the chair. “Can I ask you some stuff about you and Steve? Punk hasn’t really told me a lot about you two. Just that he’s head over heels for you.” 

Evie blushed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“I’m not trying to be rude, but you look a little young for Stevie’s ripe thirty seven.” It wasn’t a question. 

“I am,” she said, settling into a chair on the other side of Steve’s bed and fiddling with her hands. “I’m, uh, twenty two.” 

Bucky let out a low whistle. 

“I know it sounds bad,” she said quickly, blushing red and feeling embarrassed, even though he hadn’t said anything to make her feel that way. “And I get that you probably think I’m a gold digger, or I’m just interested in the fact he owns a company, but I’m not. I didn’t even know any of that about him and I wanted to be around him. He’s… Magnetic, to be around. I can’t help it.” 

“I’m not gonna lie,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s a definite concern. But I don’t think a gold digger would’ve almost passed out in the ambulance like you did.” 

“I really care about him, Bucky. He could lose everything tomorrow and I’d still want him. Every part of him. He’s the best thing to happen to me.” 

Bucky smiled and rubbed at his shoulder some more. “That’s good to hear. How’d you two meet again?” 

“We, literally, ran into each other at one of his art galleries.” 

Bucky snorted and shook his head. “Leave it to Steve to have zero finesse when approaching beautiful women.” 

She blushed and glanced up as a frantic looking blonde woman with grey at her temples opened the door, her eyes ringed with dark circles, her lips and nose matching Steve’s. 

“Hey, Momma R.,” Bucky said, standing to pull the woman into a hug. 

“Is he okay?” she asked, breaking away from the hug and moving forward to lay her hand gently against Steve’s forehead. 

“Think so. Doc’s supposed to come in soon, I think.” 

Like clockwork, the door opened again and an older man walked in, clipboard in hand. His glasses slid precariously down his nose and he raked a hand through his slightly frizzy grey hair, his short facial hair spotted with grey and white. 

“Ah, ve have a full house,” he joked through a German accent. “Sarah, nice to see you again.” 

“You, too, Abraham. How’s my boy?” 

“Stressed,” the doctor said plainly, and Bucky snorted. “His tests are all coming back clean. His blood pressure is higher than ve vould like, but dat could be from the seizures. But ozer than dat, he’s perfectly healthy.” 

“Do you know what’s triggering them?” Evie asked, making Sarah jump, like the woman hadn’t even seen her. 

“Not for sure, Ms…?” 

“Montgomery. But you can call me Evie.” 

“Oh,  _ you’re  _ Evie,” Sarah gasped, covering her mouth. “Well, shit, I didn’t want to meet you like this.” 

Evie’s mouth dropped open as the older woman casually swore and Bucky laughed. 

“See where Steve gets it from?” he asked and Evie couldn’t help agreeing. 

Sarah turned back to the doctor and wrang her hands together. “So Steven’s going to be okay?” 

He nodded. “Ve’re in ze process of running more tests, see vhat is triggering his seizures. Ve also noticed bruising and scratches along his shoulders and arms, but dat could be from ze fall.” 

Evie’s face burned. They definitely weren’t from him falling. 

“Ve’ll keep him for ze night, let him rest and start fresh in ze morning. I suggest everyone getting some rest. If you vant to stay, I can have de nurse bring in blankets.”

“Evie and I will stay here,” Bucky said, continuing when she nodded. “You should go sleep in your own bed, Momma Rogers. We’ll call you if anything changes.” 

She looked like she was going to protest, but she took a look at the one small couch and uncomfortable looking arm chairs and sighed. “Alright. But you call the minute something changes, James Buchanan, or I’ll skin you myself.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He hugged her tightly and smiled when she rubbed his back soothingly. She moved to hug Evie next, her blue eyes, Steve’s eyes, kind and warm. 

“We’ll have to get together once Steven’s feeling better,” she said. 

“That would be amazing.” 

Sarah hugged her one more time and kissed Bucky’s cheek before leaving as a blanket laden nurse came. Bucky, the gentleman, let Evie take the couch, kicking his feet onto Steve’s bed and settling into an armchair. He yawned and fluffed a blanket over his legs, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes and crossing his one arm over his chest. Evie punched the thin hospital pillow into some sort of shape, pulling her knees basically to her chest as she tried to lie down across the couch. Doger pranced over to her with an extra blanket and dropped it on the floor by her hands, licking her face for a few seconds before hopping onto Steve’s bed and curling up by his feet. 

Evie’s heart melted at the gesture and she snuggled under both blankets, falling into a light sleep and keeping an ear out for any changes in Steve’s monitors. 


	9. Angry bursts are clearheaded thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes back to work after his seizure at Bucky's. Semi-chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every lovely human that's left a comment or a Kudo on this story. I'm trying to get my postings more on a regular schedule but it's a work in progress, so bear with me!! Thanks you guys!

“So, vhat do you tink is the reason behind your attacks lately?” Dr. Erskine was sitting comfortably at the end of Steve’s hospital bed, Doger’s head and Steve’s chart balanced in his lap, while Steve stared shamefully at his lap. 

“I know you know, Steven.” 

“Let me guess,” he said, knocking his head back to stare at the ceiling instead. “I haven’t slept in a couple of days, my caffeine intake is up, aaaand I’m working too much?” 

“The fact you can sit here and tell me vhat is wrong is vhy, sometimes, I vish it was clinically acceptable for me to punch you.” 

“I’ll do it,” Bucky offered from his spot beside Steve’s bed, arms crossed over his broad chest, glaring at his friend. “I’d love to put a metal fist through your teeth.”

“I already have enough medical bills, Buck. I don’t need dental ones, too.” 

“Maybe if you actually took care of yourself, you wouldn’t be having ten minute seizures and racking up medical bills.” 

Steve opened his mouth and promptly closed it again when both Evie and his doctor pointed at Bucky in agreement.

“I tink ze best plan is for you to relax, take time from your vork, keep up vith your medications. Do you tink you can do dat?”

“I have to go back to work, Doc.” 

“No you don’t,” the three said in unison and Steve groaned. 

“We’re releasing a new Winter Soldier comic coming out in two months and-,”

“Weird, it’s almost like there’s a whole team of artists.” 

“Bucky-,” 

“I get it,” he said shortly, uncrossing his arms to stand and loom over Steve’s bed, metal arm glinting in the florescent hospital lighting. “You own half the company, you’re a control freak by nature, whatever. And I work for you, so I’m just supposed to sit on my ass and draw shit. But I’m also your friend, and I’ve watched your seizures get worse over the last six months and I’m sick of it. So you’re taking a fucking day off.” 

“I can’t take a day off,” Steve snapped, the heart monitor beside him picking up speed. He sat up and threw the blanket off his legs, getting ready to stand. Evie and Doctor Erskine both dropped hands to each of his shoulders to hold him down. “Last time I took a day off, that fucking intern leaked three releases worth of content and we had to start from scratch.” 

“Mr. Barnes,” Doctor Erskine said, standing and laying a wrinkled hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “I tink it’d be best if you stepped out.” He leveled Bucky with a heavily parental look and he glared at Steve one more time before grabbing his leather jacket.

“I’m going to work,” he said flatly. He pointed at Steve. “And you’re not.” 

So Steve took the advice and took exactly one day off, sleeping in until six that morning and only running three miles instead of his usual six, and only locking himself in his office once he’d had lunch. See, progress. 

The next morning, he raced through his shower, tugging on tan slacks and a light blue button down and yanking on his shoes before marching out the door. He’d only spent one day at home, most of it in his office, and he already had cabin fever. He just wasn’t made for staying still. 

The elevator dinged, signalling his arrival to the generation floor, and he winced at the noise. Thankfully, Wanda was helping set up appointments with a small group of interviewers, so he snuck by the front desk unnoticed. Slipping around the desks, ducking down so no one noticed his 6’2’’ frame, he made it to his office without anyone pointing him out, calling his name, or reporting him to Sam and Bucky. The last thing he needed was those two knowing he was already trying to come back to work. 

“You owe me twenty bucks, Wilson.” 

“God damn it, Steve. You couldn’t have held out one more day so I could win a bet for once?” 

Steve stood in the doorway to his office, mouth hanging open as Sam grumpily slapped a crisp twenty into Bucky’s outstretched metal hand. They were both lounging lazily on either side of his desk, Bucky’s feet kicked onto his desk even though he’d asked repeatedly for the brunette to keep his feet on the floor. 

“What are you guys doing in here?” Steve asked, sliding his bag off his shoulder and moving to sit behind his desk. 

“We were trying to see how long it’d take before you cracked and came in,” Sam said, flipping through a manilla folder filled with new storylines. 

“Shouldn’t you be working?” 

“Shouldn’t you be home, boss man?” Bucky countered, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. 

“I got cabin fever.” 

“You were home for a  _ day.”  _

“Yeah, well, I got bored.” Steve pulled his sketchbook out of his canvas bag and grabbed his bag of pencils, pulling the digital sketches up on his tablet and setting to work. 

“You could’ve invited your girl over or something,” Sam said, and Steve tried not to blush. 

“Probably wouldn’t have been the best for the whole relaxing thing,” Bucky said, smirking. Sam snorted and Steve just blushed harder. 

“Speaking of Evie,” Bucky said, kicking his feet back onto the floor and sitting up properly. Steve’s stomach dropped. “When were you going to tell us, oh, I don’t know, that’s she’s twenty two?” 

Sam’s jaw dropped open, his head whipping towards Bucky and back to Steve like he was watching a tennis match. 

“Fucking twenty two?” he howled, punching Steve’s shoulder. The blonde gunted and swatted him away. “Now I feel bad for checking out her ass.” 

“You checked out my girlfriend’s ass?” 

“We all did,” Bucky said, waving a dismissive hand as Steve gaped. “That’s not the point. The point is, what the fuck are you doing with someone that young?” 

“She’s not a gold digger or anything, Buck.” 

“I know that. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s great. But I also think you’re a colossal idiot.” 

“Why’s that, Buck?” He was trying not to snap his pencil, jamming the graphite into his paper a little harder than was necessary. How many times was he going to have to have this conversation? 

“You’re thirty seven,” Bucky said flatly. “You have a vast history of getting too attached too quickly. You really think this college girl is willing to hop on the marriage wagon?” 

“I don’t get too-,” he started, and both Bucky and Sam cut him off. 

“So we’re finally gonna talk about Sharon?” Sam asked, and Steve broke his pencil in half at her name. 

“No, we’re not,” he ground out between his teeth. 

“Then you can’t sit here and say you don’t have commitment issues,” Bucky said flatly. “Hell, you asked Pegs to marry you after less than a year.” 

“Peggy was different. I’ve known her for forever.” 

“So asking the girl, uhh, what was her name, Bailey to move in with you after dating her for two months was just a fluke thing?” 

“Or when you set up an appointment with an adoption agency when Sharon mentioned wanting to adopt  _ one time?”  _

“I get it, okay?” Steve snarled, pushing away from his desk and standing up. “You don’t have to bring up every one of my ex’s just to prove a point.” 

“Steve, man,” Sam said, his soft voice a stark difference to Bucky’s glower. “We’re just trying to help you out. You’re not the best at noticing how your behavior makes other people feel.” 

Steve just flipped them both off and stormed towards the break room in search of strong coffee. 

_ A packet of adoption information clutched in his hand, Steve raced up the steps to Sharon’s place. He didn’t even mind driving all the way to Jersey to see his girl, especially not for something like this.  _

This  _ was the answer they were looking for. He’d noticed her drawing back lately, turning her head to dodge his kisses, rolling over in bed so her back was to him whenever he reached for her, rescheduling date night to go out with friends. He didn’t want to push her, but maybe this was the thing they needed- some sort of outside force to bring them back together again.  _

_ He buzzed the button for her place and didn’t get an answer. Frowning, he waited a minute or two before buzzing again. Thankfully, another resident was coming out, the single mother that lived across from Sharon, and she held the door open for him with a friendly, “Hey, Steve!” He greeted her quickly and waved to the set of twin boys, one of them on each of her hips, before slipping inside. He took the stairs to Sharon’s floor two at a time, regretting not bringing her flowers, but the information in his hands was going to have to do for now.  _

_ Rapping his knuckles against the door, he adjusted his tie and smoothed his fingers through his hair, combing it back so it laid flat, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. He heard the lock turning from inside and straightened his shoulders, a smile already breaking across his face as his girl pulled the door open.  _

_ She- wasn’t really dressed, despite it being so late in the day, but that was okay. Steve could see the powder blue of his favorite lingerie set peaking out of him from the robe she’d thrown on, and he resisted the urge to bite his lip at the sight.  _

_ “Steve,” she said, tugging the shoulder of her robe up as it slipped down her tanned shoulder. She threw her long blonde locks behind her shoulder and closed the door a little more, leaning against the frame so he couldn’t see inside. “What are you doing here?”  _

_ “Surprise.” He smiled warmly and dipped to press a kiss to her lips, tasting a mix of her minty toothpaste and what vaguely tasted like their strawberry lube. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d come see you. I wanna talk to you about something.”  _

_ He held up the adoption agency pamphlet and Sharon’s blue eyes widened almost comically.  _

_ “You- Steve, what are these?”  _

_ “There’s a place in Brooklyn that’s really great,” he said softly. “We don’t have to do anything right now, or even anytime soon. I just wanted to maybe get the ball rolling if this is something you want.”  _

_ Sharon’s eyes were filling with tears and he stepped forward to bring her into his arms, only to have her push him back.  _

_ “You seriously came here, unannounced, to tell me you want to adopt a kid with me?” she asked, rubbing furiously at her tears. Steve’s fingers itched to be the one wiping them away.  _

_ “Baby, I just-,”  _

_ He cut himself off as a hand wrapped around the door from the inside, opening it just slightly, a man leaning forward into the open space and nuzzling his face into the hollow under Sharon’s jaw. He pressed a kiss to the skin there before looking up, and every piece of paper in Steve’s hands dropped to the floor with his jaw.  _

_ “Scott?”  _

The coffee cup in his hands shattered, shards of thick cream colored ceramic tumbling to the counter and floor in front of the coffee pot. Steve was just thankful he hadn’t filled it up yet. He grabbed another cup from the cupboard and rifled through another cabinet for some Advil, pushing his way through boxes of pads, tampons, Band-Aids, travel sized deodorants, and plenty of emergency granola bars before he found the small white bottle. The headache ws thundering behind his right eye and spreading across his forehead and he wanted to nip it before it turned into a migraine. 

The scent of fresh coffee filled his nose as he waited for the machine to finish brewing a fresh pot, his fingers drumming against the counter. He just wanted to lock himself in his office and draw. Maybe he’d take a break for lunch and visit Evie if she wasn’t at work.

Taking two cups of black coffee with him, he snuck back into his office, grateful to find it empty. He shut the door behind him, considering locking it before realizing no one would be able to get to him if they needed something, and got to work.

He ended up calling Evie as he set his pencil down for a break, loosening his tie and waiting for his pages to scan into his computer. 

“Hello?” 

He felt something in his chest loosen at the sound of her voice, even if it was just through the phone. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’re you up to?” 

“I’m just with Peter. We’re hammocking in the green space on campus.” 

_ Peter.  _ Steve’s face crubmled into an unhappy glower. 

“That’s nice, honey.” 

“What about you? Whatcha doing?” 

“I’m just at work. Uploading some new content to my computer so we can start getting the layout started.” 

“Steve.” He heard rustling an an unhappy “ _ Hey.”  _ in the background. “You’re not supposed to be at work yet.” 

“I feel fine,” he reassured her, rubbing at his eye as the headache throbbed, almost like it was proving his statement wrong. “They need me here.” 

“They also need you healthy,” she said softly. Steve’s stomach flipped over guiltily. 

“I’m not working too hard, I promise. I’m in the middle of a break, actually. Would you want to grab some lunch or anything?” 

Evie hummed and Steve could picture her swinging thoughtfully back and forth in her hammock, chewing her lower lips just like always. 

“Sure, food sounds good. What’re you thinking?” 

“There’s a stir fry place just off NYU’s campus,” he said, already reaching for his keys. “Does that sound good?” 

“Mmm, that sounds amazing. You coming from work?” 

“Mhmm. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” 

“Okie dokie. I’ll be here, in my hammock. You know where the green space is?” 

“Relatively.” 

“It’s behind the library,” she said. “Petie and I are the only ones out here, so you’ll be able to find us easy.” 

“Okay, love. I’m on my way.” 

……………..

He was not going to get jealous. He was not going to get jealous. He wasn’t gonna do it. But, as he approached Evie and Peter both cocooned in a  _ single hammock,  _ their shoulders jostled together, layered in blankets and pillows and cans of Arizona iced tea and lazily sharing a joint, he felt his hands and stomach simultaneously clench. 

“Hey, Steve,” Evie greeted him, knocking ash off the joint over the edge of the hammock and handing it to Peter. Peter, who grinned up at Steve like he wasn’t snuggling with someone else's girlfriend, took the joint and sucked on a long drag. 

“Hey, honey. You ready?” 

Evie nodded and slipped out of the hammock with ease, hopping to the ground and sliding on her worn pair of Birkenstocks. She was dressed casually in black leggings and a burnt orange tank top, a pair of grey wool socks rolled up to her calves; her hair was tossed into a messy bun on the top of her head, accompanied by an orange head wrap that matched her shirt, decorated with tiny raspberry colored and green flowers. She looked slightly under dressed next to Steve’s tweed, grey stitched slacks and  _ just  _ off white polo, his shiny black dress [shoes](https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=662&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=nbU7W4q0H8WLjwSijYzgCA&q=chris+evans+civil+war+press+tour&oq=chris+evans+civil+war+press+tour&gs_l=img.3...27816.33656.0.33869.24.20.1.3.3.0.294.2323.4j12j1.17.0....0...1c.1.64.img..7.5.238...0.0.u0JwosCoHdg#imgdii=KAdZEFOjugmZvM:&imgrc=GC-aIhHqDmmcjM:), but her swipe of dark mascara and perfectly winged eyeliner helped bump her outfit up a notch. 

“I’ll be back later, Peter. You can keep the hammock if you want. Just bring it with when you come over later.” 

“No problem.” Peter waved lazily with his joint from the depths of the hammock and Steve tried his best not to tug Evie away. 

“Eager much?” she giggled, tripping over her feet a little as he pulled her towards where he’d parked his car. 

“Peter’s coming over later?” he asked, the words blurting past his lips before he could think to stop them. The slightest hint of anger was starting to bubble under his skin, and that, combined with his headache, was putting him in a less than pleasant mood. 

“I- yeah, he was planning on it,” Evie said slowly, linking her fingers through his hesitantly. “We were gonna work on homework together.” 

Steve just grunted and her eyebrows went up into her forehead a little. 

“Is that a problem?” 

He ground his teeth and took a deep breath through his nose. Nat had said he had nothing to worry about, and he trusted Evie, but there was something about the kid that just rubbed him the wrong way. Something he didn’t want around his girl. 

“No,” he grumbled, holding the door to the restaurant open for her. 

“That’s a very believable tone.” 

He opened his mouth to reply as the host slid up to greet them, a bright smile already plastered on his face. 

“Afternoon, folks. Just two of you today?” 

They both nodded and he led them to a small table towards the back of the place. Steve was grateful for the privacy and the distance between them and the bustling road outside. He pulled Evie’s chair out for her and she turned her head for a kiss as she sat down. The soft touch of her lips on his helped ease some of the annoyance thrumming through him. 

They ordered their drinks and their food, Evie’s eyes flickering between her menu and Steve’s face constantly. He pretended not to notice. 

“Are you okay?” she asked once their waiter disappeared to the kitchen. 

“Evie-,” 

“I’m not asking about physically,” she said quickly, reaching across the small table to hold his hand. “I mean emotionally. You just- don’t seem like yourself.” 

“Why, because I’m not buying you everything?” 

She physically recoiled from his words, leaning back in her seat abruptly enough that her back smacked against the back of the chair, hands falling off the table to her sides. 

“That wasn’t necessary,” she said quietly. “I get you’re upset, for whatever reason, but that doesn’t give you the right to take it out on me.” 

Steve forced himself to take another deep breath, rubbing a large hand across his forehead in an attempt to numb the pain there. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s been a really long day, not that it’s an excuse.” 

“You should go home after this,” she said, reaching forward to touch his arm. “Get some rest. It’d help with your headache.” 

“I don’t have a-,” he started to say, until he caught sight of the flat, disbelieving look on her face, a look both his ma and Bucky had given him millions of times before. “I have work I need to get done.” 

“You can do it tomorrow. You’re no good to anyone if you don’t feel good, honey. Promise me you’ll go home and sleep?” 

“Come with me?” he hoped, wondering how he’d gotten lucky enough to have someone so patient care about him. She didn’t even seen angry, despite the fact he was being more than a pain in the ass. 

“I would, but I have back to back classes. Maybe tomorrow night.” 

“And Peter’s coming over.” Steve didn’t mean to spit the kid’s name out, but he did anyway. 

“Do you have a problem with Peter, Steve?” 

“I don’t like the way he’d always touching you.” 

“He doesn’t mean anything by it, Steve. I promise.” 

“I still don’t like it.” 

Evie huffed and stabbed a piece of baby corn with her fork. 

“He’s just my friend.” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“Are you trying to imply you think I’m going to cheat on you?” 

“I didn’t until I caught you snuggling up to another guy in a hammock. The same guy I watched you grind on at that stupid party you took me to.” 

Steve knew she was getting upset, knew he was being rude and accusatory and downright hurtful, but he couldn’t stop himself. Between his friends bringing up Sharon, the headache, the lack of sleep, everything was building up and snapping out of his mouth before he had a chance to control it. 

Evie blinked at him before throwing down her fork. She dug through her bag and dropped a ten dollar bill in front of Steve’s plate before she pushed back from the table and walked out of the restaurant. 

_ He shouldn’t have said it,  _ but he turned in his chair as she passed him and spat out the words without a second’s hesitation. 

“Tell Peter to wear a condom. I don’t want his sloppy seconds.” 


	10. Can You Imagine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your girl and I had a chat," Bucky said, swinging himself onto the other side of the door and gliding past Steve to sit on the floor with the dogs.   
> "We, uh, we need to talk," Evie said, looking anywhere but Steve's eyes, those beautiful blue eyes clouded with relief and hurt and everything she didn't want to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your wonderful kudos and comments!!! I know we all kind of hate Steve rn but I hope you guys like this chapter<33

_ “Hey, you’ve got Evie. Sorry for missing your call! Leave a message after the beep and I’ll call ya back as soon as I can. Thanks!”  _

“Hey, Evie. It’s, uh, it’s Steve. Again. I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. I’m so sorry. I just- I fucked up so bad and I’m so sorry. Please, call me back when you get this. I just want to talk this out. I know I fucked up and I know I’m the last person you probably want to talk to. I’m- I’m not expecting you to forgive me. Maybe ever. I just need to talk to you. I- yeah. Please call me.” 

……

_ “Hey, you’ve got Evie! Sorry for missing your call! Leave a message after the beep and I’ll call you back as soon as I can. Unless this is Steve, then I have no intention of returning your billion phone calls. Thanks!”  _

………

_ “Hey, you’ve got Evie Montgomery. If you’re selling something or your name is Steve Rogers, go ahead and hang up right now. If you’re not either of those people, leave a message after the beep and I’ll call you back as soon as possible.” _

……

_ “The voicemail box for the number you are trying to reach has not been activated. Please contact a service provider for questions.” Click.  _

………

It’d been two weeks and Evie still hadn’t talked to him. Part of it was her own doing, part of it the joint effort of a furious Clint and Natasha, who had taken her phone and somehow deactivated her voicemail so she stopped playing back all the messages he’d left and crying herself to sleep to the sound of his voice. They’d taken turns watching her, emailing all her professors with a made up family emergency and getting her absences for class excused, making sure she was eating. Nat forced her into a swimsuit every other day and helped her shower, scheduling waxing appointments for the two of them so Evie wasn’t anywhere near a razor. 

She’d had about two days of being pissed, throwing all of Steve’s shit into a box and sending it tumbling down the basement stairs, posting copious amounts of Snapchat stories of her and Peter, kissing his cheek, splayed across his lap, a suggestive picture of her legs under the covers of his bed, Peter brushing his teeth shirtless in the bathroom connected to his bedroom, giving the impression they’d spent the night together. She’d gotten in trouble for that one, her sister calling her and demanding to know why she was sleeping with Peter when she was dating Steve. 

That had sent her into the continuous depressive spiral. She’d put up enough of a front that Nat and Clint were convinced she was okay, leaving her alone for the night to grab some dinner and a movie. Date night. Evie had locked herself in the bathroom twenty minutes after they’d left and was in the middle of carving crisscrossing lines of red into her forearm when Clint kicked the door open, him and Nat barging in after hurrying home when she hadn’t been answering her phone. 

They’d dragged her out of the bathroom, kicking and screaming and crying, Clint having to physically dig his knees into her inner elbows so Nat could tug the razor from her fingers. It had taken days to get the blood out of the bottom of the bathtub. 

So now she had a watch team. If it wasn’t Nat, it was Clint. If it wasn’t either of them, they found someone to just sit with her. Friends from high school, people they’d all met at parties, Peter’s friend Ned, Peter himself.

“Hey, here’s your meds.” Nat set the two pill bottles on the coffee table with a glass of water and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with strawberry jelly. (The superior jelly.) Evie just blinked at her from her spot on the couch, her legs dangling off the end with her head pillowed on Clint’s thigh. He was running his fingers through her hair, nice and slow, and it was making her sleepy. Nat just arched a threatening eyebrow at her until she took the pills and started munching on her food. 

“I’m sorry you guys,” she said softly, setting the sandwich down as her stomach churned. “I know I’ve been a pain lately.” 

“You’re not a pain,” Clint said gently. He patted her head like a little kid. “We just want to see you get better.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“We know that,” Nat said, her voice patient. “What do you say about trying to get outside today? We can go to the library or something, work on homework so you’re occupied.” 

“We’ll bring snacks and get one of those tables with the comfy chairs,” Clint added. “It’ll be nice.” 

Evie nodded slowly, fighting against the voice in her head that wanted to run to her room and curl into a ball in her bed. She wasn’t going to get any better by moping, no matter how much she was trying to convince herself she could. And she knew it was exhausting for Nat and Clint to always have to be around her, always worrying, and if she could just clear the darker thoughts from her head, maybe things could go back to normal. 

And she worked her way towards normal. Normal meant forcing herself to go to her classes again, working on homework again, getting her GPA back up. Normal meant going out on the weekends and laughing off her friend’s worried looks at how much she was drinking. She was fine. Just having fun. Normal meant actually bathing and getting dressed so she could go to the store with Peter in their mission for frozen pizza and Redbox movies.

 

“Yeah, so Ned was just walking down the stairs in the quad and swoop, completely fell down the entire fucking flight and-,” Peter wasn’t looking as he waved his arms dramatically to mimic how Ned had tumbled and fractured his tailbone, Evie laughing too hard to notice, and he rammed their cart directly into oncoming cart traffic. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, man.” 

Evie wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes and felt her smile drop as she caught sight of metal fingers catching a bottle of ketchup that had fallen off the shelf during their collision. 

“You’re alright, kid,” Bucky said, setting the condiment back on the shelf and turning back to them, freezing when he saw Evie. “Ah, hey, Evie.” 

“H-hey.” 

“I didn’t know you had adult friends,” Peter teased, reaching out to shake Bucky’s hand. “I’m Peter Parker.”

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows went up and Evie saw him switch his body position to shake Peter’s hand with his metal hand. 

“So you’re Peter,” he grunted, shooting Evie an unimpressed look. Peter just looked confused. 

“Peter, this is Bucky. Uh, Steve’s best friend.” 

Peter visibly paled and took a half step back. She’d already told him everything that Steve had thought about him and he’d been both pissed and proud that Steve was threatened by him. He’d also launched into a huge speech about how asexual he was, how he’d never really looked at anyone, especially her, in a sexual or really romantic way, and that, even if he had looked at her like that, he would’ve respected the fact she was in a relationship. Evie had known all that. The issue was that Steve didn’t believe her. 

She found it incredibly ironic that Peter had chosen to wear his [asexual pride shirt](https://www.amazon.com/Asexual-Space-Planet-T-Shirt/dp/B07DNKPC2X/ref=sr_1_12?ie=UTF8&qid=1530744278&sr=8-12&keywords=asexual+pride+t+shirt) on the day they happened to run into Bucky Barnes. 

“Dude, please don’t beat the shit out of me,” Peter said, raising his hands innocently. “My aunt would kill me.” 

“I’m not going to beat you up, kid.” Bucky rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Look, Evie, I’d really like to talk to you about what happened with Steve, if you’d be willing to do that. And the grocery store isn’t the best place to have that conversation.” 

“I don’t really have anything to say about it.” 

“I do.”

She opened her mouth to shut him down again but Peter cut her off, touching her shoulder with skinny fingers. 

“Hey, you guys go get coffee or something,” he said, nodding when Evie made a sound of protest. “I’ll grab the pizza and some booze and you can come over when you’re done.” 

“But-,” 

“Bye, Eves.” He just grinned and waved, already walking away. “Nice to meet you, Bucky, and thanks for not beating me up.” 

Bucky just looked at her flatly when Peter rounded the corner. 

“Steve seriously thought you were sleeping with a guy who walks around in public with a space ace shirt?” 

“Yes.” 

“He’s an idiot.” 

“Peter or Steve?” 

“Both,” Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes. “Lemme just pay for this shit and we can go talk somewhere.”

 

They ended up at a small coffee shop down the block, sitting at a table tucked into a corner and sipping on hot coffees. 

“Has Steve told you anything about Sharon?” he asked abruptly, rubbing the joint where his arm met his body through his Henley. 

“Nope.” 

He sighed and shook his head. 

“Look, most of it isn’t my place to tell you, but basically, Steve was head over heels for her and she ended up fucking his brother almost the entire time they were dating.” 

“I didn’t know he had a-,” 

“They don’t talk,” he said shortly. “Sharon fucked with his head and made him super protective of whoever he was with. He’s already insecure, and Sharon cheating on him kinda just reaffirmed everything he already thought about himself. It drove him and Peggy apart, and it’s doing the same thing to you two.” 

“That’s not an excuse for him to say the things he did.” 

“And I’m not saying it is. I’m just trying to tell you why he did it. He’s paranoid of partners cheating on him, of being really involved with someone again and getting fucked over. No pun intended.” Bucky smirked into his coffee and she rolled her eyes. 

“So you think I should forgive him.” 

He shook his head and raised his head to signal he was about to speak. 

“I think you should do whatever you want. You’re an adult. If you wanna break up with him over what happened, I think that’s entirely valid. But I do think it’s possible for you two to work past it. He really cares about you, more than I’ve seen him care about anyone in a long time.” 

Evie sighed and rubbed at her face with both hands, trying to sort out the mess in her brain. She missed Steve. Missed him more than she probably cared to admit to herself. But just accepting his behavior and moving on had been the thing to give Brock the green light to turn aggressive, assuming she’d just forgive him like she always did. She didn’t think Steve would ever turn the way Brock did, but the fear still lingering in her gut made her second guess whether or not forgiveness was an option. Steve had already proved he could be vicious, could lash out and hurt her without a second thought. But he was also  _ human,  _ and just because he made a mistake didn’t mean he was going to start throwing punches like Brock had. 

“I care about him, too,” she mumbled, dropping her head onto the table and groaning. “His place is close to here, isn’t it?” 

“Just a couple blocks down. And I’d be willing to drive you, if that’s what you wanted.” 

Evie took a deep breath and downed the rest of her coffee in one swallow, earning an impressed eyebrow raise from Bucky. She grabbed her keys and nodded. 

“Let’s go before I change my mind.” 

Turns out her sudden burst of decisiveness only lasted until she was standing in front of Steve’s door. 

“I think you need to knock,” Bucky said unhelpfully, smirking from where he was leaning against the wall. She flipped him off and he snorted. 

Taking a deep breath, she rapped her knuckles against the wood and waited, smiling a little at the sound of nails tapping against the floors, followed by excited barking and what sounded like a tiny furry someone running directly into the door. 

“Jesus Christ, Doger, calm down,” Steve’s voice said through the door and Evie’s stomach flipped inside out. It’d been so long since she’d heard it in  _ person _ and she wanted to cry. The lock turning dully clicked and there was Steve, dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a heather grey henley, every inch of the fabric clinging to his muscles and the tiny width of his hips. She could see the thick white band of his boxers peeking out from where his shirt was riding up his side and it made her mouth water. 

“Evie,” he breathed, blinking at her like he thought she would disappear. “Wh- what are you doing here?” 

“Your girl and I had a chat,” Bucky said, swinging himself onto the other side of the door and gliding past Steve to sit on the floor by the dogs. 

“We, uh, we need to talk,” Evie added, trying to look anywhere but his eyes, clouded with a mixture of relief and hurt. 

“Of course.” He stepped to the side and let her in; she noticed the way his fingers twitched, like he was going to reach forward to touch her, maybe brush her hair back, but thought better of it. She appreciated that. “We can talk in my office,” he said, leading her down the hall and past the guest bedroom. “Buck, you’ll keep the dogs occupied?” 

“You’ll be lucky if they’re still here when you get back,” he said, making soft kissing noises as Queenie put her paws on his knees and sniffed at his face, her little butt wiggling happily from side to side. 

Steve led her back to his office, a spacious room with blush grey carpet and navy walls, a huge desk laden with a computer and countless sketch books sitting in front of floor to ceiling bookshelves. A few gold frames sat on his desk and Evie’s gut clenched when she saw the selfie they’d taken together in bed one morning resting in the frame closest to his computer. It was cute, Steve plastering a kiss to her cheek while she pulled the blankets up, the two of them laughing at the brown and white blur in the corner that was Doger jumping up and trying to steal some of the affection for himself. 

Clearing his throat, Steve sat on the edge of his desk, biting at his cuticles and shifting his gaze between her and the floor. 

“I’m- I’m sorry for not returning any of your calls,” she started, wringing her hands nervously. “I just wasn’t ready to talk.” 

“I understand,” he said softly, his voice gravely. He cleared his throat again and looked at the floor. “I’m sorry for- for everything I said, Evie. None of that was called for, and I should have trusted you  _ and  _ Natasha when you told me there was nothing to worry about with Peter. Sorry doesn’t change the fact I hurt you, but you have to know, if I could take those words back, I would. I’d do anything.” 

“I get the whole being jealous thing,” she said, sinking into one of the plush leather arm chairs across from his desk. “But being jealous doesn’t give you the right to lash out at me. I wasn’t doing anything wrong and we both knew that.” 

“I know. I let my temper get the worst of me and it won’t happen again. I’ve, well, I’ve kind of been short with everyone lately, for a bunch of different reasons, and I, uh, I called a counselor from the clinic Sam goes to. Someone who specializes in anger management. I needed to find a healthy way to manage everything in my head, and he’s really been helping. I’ve only been to a few sessions, but I can already feel a difference.” 

“Steve, that’s- that’s amazing. When did you do that?” 

“Two days after I snapped at you,” he said sheepishly. “I let my stress manifest into anger and take it out on the people I care about. I’m working on it.” 

“That actually makes me feel a lot better about this,” she said slowly, and Steve’s eyes brightened. “Look, I know we care about each other, and being with you makes me happier than I’d ever really thought I could be with someone. But I’ve had enough negative experiences with guys to be cautious. Especially with someone with anger issues. Brock used to get jealous and lash out at me, same as you did, and I forgave him every single time. And you wanna know what happened? He started pushing the boundaries, assuming I’d forgive him, until he’d get mad if a guy so much as looked at me the wrong way. And he always took it out of me.” 

“He cut me off from my friends because he assumed I’d sleep with them. He wouldn’t let me go out to bars, even with my girlfriends, because I’d find someone to take home. He didn’t trust me, and he let his jealousy control our relationship because he knew I’d forgive him in the end. So, when staying home and not talking to anyone wasn’t enough for him to feel satisfied, he laid into me. Started off just shoving me, maybe pulling my hair, until he saw I was still sticking around and he actually started hitting me. He put me in the hospital with fractured ribs and concussion because Clint surprised me at work with lunch one day.” 

Steve’s face drained of color as she spoke, his hands tightening on his desk until his knuckles were white, and Evie folded herself tighter into the chair, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. 

“I get why you’re insecure, and why you’re jealous,” she said. “Bucky told me about Sharon, and you have every right to be worried about a partner cheating on you. But I’m also not Sharon. I mean it when I say that I love you, and it’s taken all of my willpower and a fear of Nat to keep myself from running back to you because I know I hurt you by ignoring you. I would never,  _ never  _ choose someone else over you and you have to trust that I mean what I say.” 

“And I’m not Brock,” he said softly, his voice gentle and warm, everything Evie had been missing and she felt tears prickling at her eyes before she could stop them. “Do I get jealous easily? Yes. But that’s not your fault, and I won’t ever treat you like it is ever again. You’re a human being, and it’s not my place to tell you who you can or can’t see, or what you can do with your time. I could never hurt you the way he did, put my hands on you the way he did. I’m so sorry he treated you like that, and I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. I’ll go to a thousand therapy sessions, I’ll see an entire board of counselors, group therapy, anything. You deserve the best, someone who’s patient and supportive and loving of everything you are, and I’m sorry I didn’t give that to you.” 

Evie bit the inside of her lower lip, feeling tears dribble out of the corner of her eyes, her lip quivering; Steve wiped away some tears of his own and sank to his knees in front of her, reaching out with shaking hands to gently stroke his thumb against the streaks of her face. 

“I love you,” she said brokenly, choking on a laugh and looking up at the ceiling to blink away more tears. “I love you so much, you fucking idiot.” 

He laughed with her this time, pushing her hair back and smiling at her like she hung the moon. 

“I love you, too, sweetheart. More than anything.” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Of course.” 

He kissed her sweet, no rush or heat or desperation, just a slow, gentle kiss that left Evie clinging to him, both arms wrapped tight around his neck while he held her to his chest, lips soft against her ear as he murmured to her how much he loved her. 

As she inhaled and lost herself in the familiar scent of his cologne, the musk of his body wash, the woodsy smell of his pomade, she let herself relax, let that little part of her brain screaming to hide, to avoid anything that might hurt her, shut up for a while.

This was okay. They were going to be okay. 


	11. Bad Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things were, most decidedly, NOT OKAY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm actually the worst, but this is my declaration that I'm still here, still alive and sloooowly churning out chapters and updates. I'm back at school now, so I'm not really sure how much time I'll have to write, but we'll have to see. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has left kudos or comments! You all are way too sweet and loving and I don't deserve it. 
> 
> On ward to the story!

Things were most decidedly not okay. 

“What’s wrong? Nat, I can barely understand you.” Evie pushed at Steve’s head as he kissed his way down her naked chest, knocking her head back against his fluffy white pillows and keeping her phone held to her ear. She smacked Steve’s shoulder and glared at him as he moved to suck on her nipples, gathering her tits in his big hands and lapping at the hardened buds. Spikes of heat rippled through her stomach and she tried to squirm away from him, only to have him hold her down with his elbows, an evil smile curling his pink lips. 

“Maybe because I’m whispering in your bathroom!” 

“Uh, can you hold on for just a second?” Evie muted the phone, lifting her hips without thinking as Steve rolled her leggings down, groaning in the back of his throat at the sight of her navy g-string. 

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Now is not the time for apology oral.” 

“I think it’s the perfect time, don’t you? I wanna see if my sweet girl can keep herself quiet while I make her come.” 

Evie bit into her lower lip, huffing and laying back on the bed, spreading her legs so Steve could fit his stupidly big shoulders between them, his teeth already sinking into her inner thighs, his eyes dark and hungry. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Oh, a know, the usual,” Nat said, her voice falsely conversational. “Was just sucking my boyfriend’s dick on a Tuesday, as one does, when someone started pounding on the front door. You wanna guess who was at the door, Evie?” 

Steve’s tongue slid from her hole up to her clit, sucking contently on the bundle of nerves as her back bowed into a tight arch. 

“Ahh, the mailman?” she squeaked, tangling her free hand in Steve’s hair. 

“Nope. It was none other than  _ Kent and Helen Montgomery.  _ Your parents are fucking here and royally cock blocked me.” 

All of the color drained from her face and she sat up fast enough to knock Steve off balance, his big body tumbling to the floor as she scrambled for her clothes. 

“Why the fuck are they here?” she cried, throwing Steve a shirt and hunting for her bra. 

“To see you, dumbass. I told them you were at work, but they wanted to go surprise you, so I told them you were in the middle of closing. You have about ten minutes to get here before they get suspicious.” 

“Can you keep them busy until then?” 

“Clint is in the middle of a lecture about some archery club thing and your dad is eating it up. But your mom keeps pacing and acting like she’s wiping dust off shit and I bet you’ve only got a matter of time before she starts going through your stuff.” 

Not only was her room a mess, but Steve’s overnight bag was sitting open on her bed, full of boxers and beard trimming shit and condoms and other shit Evie definitely didn’t use. He’d left his work clothes hanging up on her closet door, tie and everything. Fuck, his toothbrush was even in her cup in the bathroom, some battery powered robot thing that made his teeth so incredulously white and so out of Evie’s price range her mom would know in a heartbeat it wasn’t hers. 

“Shit, okay, I’ll be there in ten.” 

“Better fucking hurry.” 

She hung up and dropped her phone to the ground, yanking her bra out from under the bed and throwing it on, oblivious to the fact it was inside out. 

“My parents are here,” she explained to a confused Steve, hopping up and down on one foot while trying to jam her leg into her pants. “Nat told them I was working to buy me some time, but it’s not much.” 

“Why couldn’t you just tell them you’re with me?” he asked, tugging a thin black sweater that hugged his obnoxious muscles on to pair with his dark jeans. 

“Well, the thing is, my parents, mostly my mom, are super religious and would shit bricks if I said I was at your place alone with you. Yeah, I know,” she finished flatly at the awestruck look on his face. “Tell me about it. Plus my mom is super nosy and is probably seven minutes away from going through my room, where we were smart enough to leave a half empty box of Magnum condoms and your overnight stuff.” 

This time, Steve was the one to pale. 

“Shit,” he groaned, raking a hand down his face. “This is not how I wanted to meet your parents.” 

“Hey, I met your mom while you were passed out in a hospital bed, so this makes it about even.” 

Steve shrugged a shoulder in mild agreement, snagging his keys off the kitchen island and hurrying them both downstairs and into his car. He barely had time to clip Doger’s leash, the dog wiggling excitedly and trying to jump up to lick Steve’s face. 

“Not now, buddy,” he said, scooping an escaping Queenie up and placing her back on the floor just inside the apartment. “You, stay, little miss.” 

If it was possible for a corgi to glower, Queenie was doing it. 

Only breaking the law a little and going wellllll over the speed limit, they made it to the apartment in record time, Evie already dreading this conversation the moment she spied the Chevy parked in front of her door. 

Steve parked and unlocked the doors, taking a deep breath and glancing over at her. 

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked. 

She shook her head before he’d really finished asking. 

“I don’t think that’s the best idea, cause they’re probably already pissed. Maybe we could do lunch or something tomorrow since I don’t have class till later?” 

He nodded, smiling warmly at her and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you,” he said sweetly, cupping her face in both of his huge hands. “And good luck. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I promise, daddy.” She leaned in to kiss him again as he groaned, pulling her in for another smooch, this one with a bit more tongue behind it. 

“You can’t just drop that when you’re about to leave,” he whined, tangling his hands into the loose hair dangling past her shoulders and kissing along her jaw. 

“Steve, I gotta go,” she breathed, tilting her head back to give him more access anyway, her eyes fluttering shut. God, they were making out like teenagers, quite literally hiding from her parents, and it was getting her going a lot more than it should’ve been. 

“Call me daddy again,” he panted, razor sharp teeth knicking at her pulse point. “Been fucking my fist for a week thinking about how sweet you beg for me.” 

“Please,” she gasped, leaning across the console to get closer to him, closer to the heat of his touch and kisses. “Daddy daddy daddy  _ daddy.  _

“What do you need, hmm?” He pulled her across the console and jerked his seat back at the same time, pushing it all the way away from the wheel so he could fit her across his lap. “What does my sweet girl need?” 

Evie just whined, crushing her lips to his and moaning at the rough scratch of his beard against her cheeks, the wet slide of his tongue on hers, the hard bulge of his dick tenting the front of his jeans. 

“You,” she panted, wiggling down into his lap and meeting him kiss for kiss. “Just need you.” 

They made it through about five more seconds of kissing before Evie realized, through the thick fog of heat clouding her head, that her parents were inside and could just look out the window and see her straddling Steve’s (very comfortable) lap. 

She’d never been more turned off faster in her life. 

“Steve,” she grunted, pulling back from his lips with a wet smack. “We- we gotta stop. My parents.” 

He froze in his seat, hands stilling on their path to grope her ass, his face draining quickly of color only to be replaced by a red hot blush seconds later. 

“We’ll just- continue this later?” he squeaked, his voice cracking slightly, and Evie nodded enthusiastically. “You gotta get yourself inside.” 

“I love you,” she said, pressing a quick goodbye kiss to his reddened mouth. 

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he replied softly, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “Let me know about lunch tomorrow.” 

She nodded and awkwardly clambered out of his car, closing the door behind her softly and fanning her face with both hands, willing the beard burn on her cheeks to recede.

“I’m home,” she said, knocking the door open with her hip and plastering a fake smile across her face. Her dad smiled warmly from the couch, eyes hidden behind a red and black Chicago Blackhawks hat, every inch of his posture relaxed and comfortable. Her mom, however, was in the middle of inspecting their kitchen counters, her nose scrunched up as she wiped up nonexistent dust, rubbing her index finger and thumb together before wiping them on her jeans. Nat and Clint both visibly sagged with relief. 

“Where have you been?” her mom, Helen,asked, her tone already short. Well fuck. 

“I was at work. The subway was running behind. Sorry I’m late.” 

“It’s alright, kiddo. Surprise!” Her dad smiled widely, heaving his way off their sunken couch and pulling her into a tight hug, squeezing her hard against his sternum until he squished out a little laugh from her. 

“Dad, too tight,” she squeaked and he laughed, squeezing one last time before stepping back and folding his arms across his chest. “Hi, momma.” 

Her mom’s hug wasn’t nearly as heartfelt, but it was at least something. They’d gone through a rough patch while Evie was in high school, their relationship getting to the point where Helen would’ve even hug her daughter. But at least now they were somewhat past it. 

“How long are you guys in town for?” she asked, settling into their lone armchair and hugging her knees to her chest. Nat and Clint both waved slightly in goodbye as they disappeared down the hall, probably to resume their blowjobbing, and both her parents settled onto the couch. 

They talked late into the night, passing through what Evie’s classes were like, how her professors were, student loans- an entirely stress free topic- how her siblings were doing, the grandparents, the pets, all of it. And Evie knew it was only a matter of time until the topic switched to Steve; she was surprised it’d taken as long as it had. 

“So, tell us about this guy you’re seeing.” 

There it was. 

“Um, his name is Steve. He has a dog? Two dogs, actually. I don’t know. What do you want to know?” 

“How’d you meet him? Is he a gentleman? Have you met his parents? What’s he like?” 

“Mom, you gotta slow down if you want me to answer all those,” she said, laughing slightly and already feeling a blush crawling up her neck. She hated this, hated how awkward and uncomfortable talking about a significant other was. She’d kill for one of those laid back relationships with her parents, where she could just date whoever she wanted and they’d be okay with it, not push for details and just let her live. 

“I met him at a gallery in the city. Nat made Clint and I go and him and I got to talking and he offered to buy me a drink.” 

“He didn’t drug it, did he? I read this story on Facebook the other day about this girl that-,” 

“Do you really think she would be dating him if he’d drugged her?” her dad asked, shaking his head. “Let the girl talk, Helen.” 

Evie shot her dad a grateful smile and continued. 

“So, uh, yeah. I gave him my number and we texted some and we’ve gone on a couple dattes. Now we’re dating, so, yeah.” 

“Are we gonna get to meet him while we’re in town?” her dad asked, lifting his cap up to ruffle his greying hair before settling it firmly back on his head. “We’re driving out tomorrow night.” 

“I mean, he offered to meet for lunch tomorrow,” Evie said, adding on quickly, “When I texted him that you guys were here on my way from work.” 

“That’s nice of him,” her mom finally spoke up. “Your father and I haven’t been to a lot of places around here, so you two pick the place.” 

“Will do.” She watched as both parents yawned, her dad knuckling at his eyes similarly to a toddler, two sets of eyes ringed with dark circles. “I’ll go clean up my room and you guys can sleep in there.” 

“Evelynn Grace, last time we slept on that bed, I had to schedule your father three chiropractor appointments in a week.” 

“We booked a hotel a couple miles out,” her dad said, laughter in his voice. “That way you kids can still have your place to yourselves and I don’t break my spinal cord on your excuse for a bed. Plus, ya know, free breakfast.” 

Evie rolled her eyes and stood to hug them both, walking them to the door with reassurances to text them what time they’d be meeting for lunch, where to go, yes mom, Steve will be there, making sure all her boxes were checked. Closing the door behind them, she let out a minute long groan while sinking to the floor until she was face down on their rug, cat hair and dust bunnies tickling her nose, but she couldn’t be bothered. 

This was either going to go exceptionally well or be a complete disaster, and, based on her and Steve’s track record, the day was already leaning towards something bad. Steve was a complete gentleman and she had no doubt that he’d be able to charm and shmooze his way into her parents’ good graces, but there was the whole fourteen year age difference to think about. Her parents wanted to be involved in every part of her life, meaning they snooped and nosed around in all her business and gave themselves the right to approve and deny boyfriends; the guy she’d date in high school had randomly gotten deleted off every form of social media, off her phone, everything, because Helen and Kent found out they didn’t like his parents. 

But meeting Steve wouldn’t be an issue. Not at all. 

In the morning, Steve let himself in, wandering back to Evie and Clint’s shared bathroom as she was finishing curling her hair. Doger stayed close to his side, only pausing for a second to sniff at one of Clint’s abandoned pizza boxes before following his owner to the open bathroom door. Steve wolf whistled and leaned against the doorframe, folding his thick arms over his chest and slanting his mouth into a crooked smile, Doger’s tail beating happily against the bathroom wall as he clicked his way into the bathroom to lick at Evie’s leg. 

“Look at you, hot stuff,” he crooned, eyeing her floor length black skirt with thigh high slits and gold off the shoulder top with little bows at the end of the three-quarter sleeves. She stuck her tongue out at him in the mirror and he just crinkled his nose in return. 

“How much time until we need to meet my parents?” she asked, poofing her ELF finishing powder across her cheeks and forehead in a cloud of white. 

“We’ve got about a half hour if we wanna be a little early.” 

“And God knows my parents are always late.” Evie rolled her eyes, smearing maroon lipstick across her lips and puckering them in a kissing motion at Steve. He smirked and reached down to scratch Doger behind the ears, watching Evie finish up her makeup and spritz on some perfume before they left. 

Her parents, per usual, were ten minutes late meeting them in the spacious restaurant, with it’s high, vaulted ceiling and tall windows draped in soft cream curtains that hung just above the floor. The hostess led them back to the round table Evie and Steve were already sitting at, both of them nervously fidgeting in the high backed black chairs, Steve’s long fingers buried in the scruff of Doger’s fur below his collar. 

“Breathe, babe,” Evie murmured, catching the waver in his hands as he compulsively fixed his sweater, smoothed his hair back, straightened Doger’s service animal vest. “It’s okay.” 

He nodded jerkily, taking a deep breath and turning so his body was facing her, his eyes searching her face until his shoulders relaxed a little, bringing one hand up to cup her face. 

“I love you,” he said softly as the hostess and Kent and Helen approached. 

She leaned in for a quick smooch before standing to hug her dad. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he said gruffly, kissing the side of her head and letting Helen move through. He scanned Steve quickly, taking in the broad shoulders, the finely trimmed beard, the tan cashmere [sweater](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/e9/e3/7a/e9e37ad61f861be43d8efa2b0cd5d74e--chris-evans-chris-delia.jpg), down his perfectly tailored dress pants, all the way to his brown Oxford dress shoes. 

“You must be Steve,” Hellen said, sounding somewhat surprised as she ran her eyes over him, pulling him in for a quick hug and keeping her hands on either one of his biceps. “Helen Montgomery.” 

“Let the man go, Helen,” Kent said, reaching for Steve’s hand and shaking it somewhat passive aggressively. “Nice to meet you, Steve.” 

“The pleasure’s mine,” Steve said, his cheeks flushing red. Doger whined  and bumped his head against Steve’s knee, his shiny brown eyes darting from Helen to Kent warily. His tail was wagging a little, though, which was a good sign. 

“Can I pet him?” Kent asked excitedly. 

“Of course,” Steve said, bringing Doger around in front of him, Kent’s hand running smoothly over Doger’s head while he cooed to him. “He obviously never gets any love or attention.” 

“Oh, never,” Kent teased back,  scratching Doger’s fluffy ears one more time before straightening up and gesturing to the table. “Shall we?” 

They all took their seats, Steve automatically reaching for Evie’s hand, raising it to his lips for a quick kiss before resting their joined hands on the white tablecloth. 

“So how did you two meet?” Helen asked, picking up the skinny menu and flipping it open. 

“We actually met at a gallery not too far from here,” Steve said, smiling sweetly at his girlfriend. 

“Nat made me and Clint get some culture, and Steve was showing some pieces he’d made and we just bumped into each other.” 

“So you’re an artist?” Kent asked, looking impressed as he took a sip of his ice water. 

“I dabble.” Steve blushed a little when Evie scoffed. 

“He’s amazing,” she said, reaching for her phone to pull up some pictures she’d taken of his sketchbook last time they were flipping through it. She made sure to skip through the naked ones.

“It’s not much,” he said, biting his thumbnail as Helen and Kent looked through the pictures- still pictures of hands, a woman brushing her hair back, his mother’s smile. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” Helen argued, looking up from the phone and all but giving Steve heart eyes. “You’re obviously incredibly talented. Are you studying art?” 

Oh, God. Evie’s stomach clenched at the question, the color pulling quickly from her face, but Steve took it in stride. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said smoothly, leaning back in his seat slightly as their waitress approached. 

“Hi, there,” she greeted warmly, flipping a long blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “My name’s Karie, and I’ll be taking care of you today. Can I get you guys started with anything?” 

Kent and Helen both grunted a little, their eyes flashing to the menu they’d barely looked over, scanning quickly over the words, a pretty printed mix of English and Italian. Steve, noticing their hesitation, stepped in. 

“We’ll start with the Avignonesi,” he said, running a hand absently through his hair. 

“Good choice,” Karie praised, making a note on her little pad of paper. “Smooth and bright, perfect for brunch.” 

All the Montgomery’s looked confused. 

“It’s one of our best wines,” the waitress explained, watching Kent try to mouth the word. “Imported directly from Tuscany. They use a couple really rare white grapes, so it’s kind of hard to come by, but it’s bubbly like a champagne but smooth and sweet at the finish, like a moscato.” 

“I sure do love a sweet finish,” Evie said flatly, smirking. Steve pinched her thigh and she cackled. The waitress clearly caught the joke, snorting a little, but didn’t comment. She offered them a few more minutes to look over the menu, returning shortly with their bottle of wine and a couple fancy glasses. 

After they ordered- Steve only ribbing Evie  _ a little  _ for ordering the sweet cream pancakes with extra whipped cream, please, rambling about her insatiable sweet tooth as her parents laughed- they settled into comfortable conversation, the crinkles by Steve’s eyes crunching up as Kent recalled a story from Evie’s childhood. 

“There she was, in Dora the Explorer rain boots, diaper pulled down, pissing right in the front yard.” 

“The neighbors were horrified,” Helen added dramatically as Steve shook with laughter, Evie’s face burning red. 

“I didn’t know better!” she argued hotly. “Dad always peed in the yard. Why couldn’t I?” 

“We were so excited to get a little girl,” Helen continued, not really acknowledging Evie’s explanation. “And all she wanted to do was roll in the dirt and squish bugs.” 

“I bet you and my mom would get along great,” Steve chuckled, swiping a bite of his steak through a runny yellow yolk. “The doctors told her she was having a girl when she was pregnant with me. Stuck to their story until I was born and they went to cut the cord and, well, there I was.” 

Evie’s parents laughed, Helen launching into a story about Evie supposedly being a set of twins, and Evie couldn’t help but think about how well this was going. Steve was the embodiment of calm and polite, sipping at his wine and keeping his attention rapt on the couple in front of him, laughing when necessary, groaning in sympathy when needed, keeping a loose grip on Evie’s bouncing knee under the table while they talked. They worked their way through their plates, Helen and Kent gushing about the quality of the food and wine, Steve stealing a bite of Evie’s pancakes when she wasn’t looking, a rosy drop of her strawberry syrup smeared across the corner of his smug smile. She broke a piece off his bacon and popped it into her mouth triumphantly. 

Their waitress came back a few minutes later, scooping up their plates and leaving them each steaming cream cups of coffee and the bill. With Steve’s shiny grey credit card sticking out of the top of the leather folder. 

Steve waved Kent down, who was digging into his pocket for his wallet. 

“I’ve got it,” he said, signing his name and dropping a hundred dollar tip. Evie sighed quietly next to him and he smirked, tapping her nose with the end of the pen before folding it all back up and handing it back to the waitress. 

“No, son, it’s alright-,” he started to argue, before Helen cut him off. 

“Steve, honey, did you just give that girl a hundred dollar tip?” 

Steve’s ears turned pink but he nodded. 

“Are you sure can you afford something like that?” 

“Positive.” Steve laughed and, without thinking, added, “Perks of owning your own business, I guess.” 

Evie froze as her mom’s eyebrows went up. 

“You- own your own company?” 

“That must be a lot to handle, with school and everything.” Kent folded his arms over his chest, resting them just shy of his belly and letting his face drop into a frown. “What exactly do you do?” 

“I’m uh, I’m a comic book artist for Shield Industries,” Steve said slowly. Evie could practically see him kicking himself. “I’m the co-owner and the head of our generation and story building programs.” 

“So you must make a lot of money.” 

“Mom,” Evie snapped, frowning at Helen. “Rude.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Steve said, braiding his fingers through hers and resting the back of his hand on the white tablecloth. “I make enough for myself, and then some. My job lets me do what I love and treat the people I love.” He smiled warmly at Evie, making her insides squiggle around.

“I’ve worked hard to get where I am,” he continued, taking a sip of his coffee. “And I’m proud of my company and my work. But I don’t do it for the money- it’s just an added bonus. I worked enough miserable jobs in my twenties to convince me I needed to work where I was happy, not necessarily where I make the most. If I wasn’t happy, I wouldn’t be at Shield.” 

_ Please, please overlook the fact he just announced he wasn’t in his twenties anymore…  _

“That’s very admirable,” Kent said, his frown lifting just slightly. “Shows you’re willing to work for what you want. Evie needs that kind of fella in her life.” 

“Dad-,” 

“I’m not trying to get all mushy on you,” he defended, raising his hands slightly. “I’m just saying. You have a habit of introducing us to guys that dropped out of school to invade their parents’ basement.” 

“Yeah, well, Steve’s not like that,” she said, squeezing Steve’s hand and looking over at him, her heart thudding loudly against her ribs at the soft smile that turned his lips up. He leaned over to press a warm kiss to her forehead, whispering a soft declaration of his love against her skin, his thumb rubbing a big circle on the back of her hand. “Plus, uh. He already graduated.” 

Might as well pull the Band-Aid off all at once. 

“Impressive,” Kent praised, while Helen nodded. 

“When did you graduate?” Helen asked, tearing open a sugar packet and dumping the sparkly crystals into her coffee mugs. 

Ears turning red, Doger’s head turning to bump against his knee with a nervous whine, Steve cleared his throat a little before answering. 

“I’ve, uh, I’ve been out of school for about ten years now,” he said sheepishly, his blush deepening. “I finished grad school when I was twenty six.” 

There was a beat of heart wrenching silence as Kent and Helen worked through the mental math, Helen’s lips moving slowly without making so much as a sound, her spoon freezing in her coffee cup with a soft clatter. That beat stretched longer into something uncomfortable, Kent’s face folding into a deeper and deeper frown as the seconds dragged by, his shaggy eyebrows lowering threateningly over his dark eyes. 

“So, what you’re telling us,” he said, carefully measuring his words, the timber of his voice reminding Evie painfully of missed curfews and that  _ one time  _ she took a boy into her bedroom when her parents weren’t home. “Is that you, a man who’s almost forty, are romantically pursuing my daughter, who’s not even in her mid-twenties yet.” 

“Dad,” Evie piped up, automatically reaching under the table to hold Steve’s shaking hand, both for her sanity and his. Kent held up an open hand and Evie’s mouth clicked shut. 

“What exactly are your intentions here, son?” he asked darkly, dropping his hand in favor of crossing his arms, tapping his thick fingers against his arm and leveling Steve with a harsh look. “You seem like a nice enough guy, but I think I have the right to be concerned about what your plans are with my daughter.” 

“I don’t have any intentions,” Steve said honestly, shrinking his hulking frame just slightly, his shoulder scrunching up towards his ears in an attempt to look smaller, less threatening. “I didn’t seek Evie out. And I tried to put a stop to things once I realized how young she was, but she’s just-,” he huffed a little, shaking his head with a tight, fond smile on his lips, his eyes brightening. “She’s captivating. I’ve never met anyone like her before, and that’s what drew me to her. Not her age.” 

“She is something,” Helen said, straightening the set of silverware in front of her. “Evie, well, she’s a lot to handle. Been in and out of therapy, on a pretty high dosage of, ya know,  _ pills.”  _ She spit the word out like a slur and made a face. “That kind of thing. It’s a lot to get yourself involved in, honey.” 

Steve’s spine straightened at the backhanded comments, his shoulders falling back as Evie took her turn at shrinking in on herself. 

“Mrs. Montgomery,” he said roughly, obviously trying to contain the annoyance and anger bubbling under his skin. “I’ve been in therapy since I was six. Both physical and emotional. I’ve been diagnosed with depression, a panic disorder, PTSD, and I’m epileptic. I take medication for almost every one of those disorders, so I’m on my own fair share of  _ pills.  _ I take a service animal wherever I go. I served overseas and watched my best friend get his arm blown off, so loud noises make me panic. I could have a seizure at any moment, of any day, every day; I’m not in control of my own body, and that comes with it’s own list of issues. The fact that Evie takes medication and sees a therapist is proof she’s strong and willing to seek help to make herself better. It took me a long time to get to that point, and she’s better at it than I am.” 

“She encourages me, makes sure I’m taking breaks from work, that I’m keeping up with my exercises and my medication. She holds me accountable for my responsibilities and is proud when I reach my goals, and she supports me when I can’t meet those goals. She’s been through hell and back, several times, and she has the kindest, most encouraging and loving heart of anyone I’ve ever met.” 

Turning her face to their joined hands, Evie fought back the shy grin threatening to spread over her face, her eyes prickling just a little at the corners. What she did to deserve a guy like Steve, she’ll never really know, but she was fucking grateful for whatever it was. 

“You must not have met many people, then.” 

Kent sighed and looked at his wife annoyedly. 

“Helen, lay off for a day, will you? This is supposed to be a nice breakfast and you’re being a bitch.”

“Oh, but you were allowed to be so pissy earlier, when-,” 

“Okay!” Evie called, shooting back the rest of her coffee and clanging her cup back onto the saucer. “No fighting at the brunch table. Steve is old, he’s pretty cool, and I’m happy. Can we leave it at that and not make this another bad family memory?” 

Kent and Helen shared a glace, tension simmering between them just under the surface, but they both sighed and resigned the fight for later. 

“Thank you. So I’ve got some homework to do, so Steve and I are gonna go. Call me if you wanna do something else before you guys leave?” 

Both her parents nodded, the four of them standing up to exchange hugs and handshakes. 

“It was nice to meet you, son,” Kent said sincerely, shaking Steve’s hand before pulling him into a loose bro-hug. “Hopefully we’ll be seeing more of you around at holidays and stuff?” 

“Hopefully,” Steve laughed, slinging a long arm around Evie’s waist, his fingers tickling the soft spot below her ribs. “If this one will have me.” 

She giggled and slapped at his chest, accepting a chaste, dry kiss as they walked out of the restaurant, the New York sunshine warm on their faces with the promise of a bright fall day.


	12. Road Head- Bed Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where to now?” he asked, leading them back out into the cool city air.
> 
> “No more shopping, please,” she practically begged. She looked around at the bustling streets and chewed her lip, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. “Can we just- can we go get slushies from a shitty gas station and drive for a while?”
> 
> “Of course, honey.” Steve thread his fingers through hers and turned them the opposite direction, walking back towards the complex where they’d parked the car. “There’s some hills outside the city we could watch the sunset from. Does that sound good?”
> 
> Evie couldn’t nod fast enough. Being outside the city, holed up in the car, closed off from everything except Steve sounded like perfection.
> 
> “Hey,” Steve said gently, catching her attention as he slid into the driver's seat and starting his car with a smooth rumble. “You okay?”
> 
> “I have a question.”
> 
> “Go for it.”
> 
> She chewed the inside of her cheek before- “Can I suck your dick, daddy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda short but I want the next chapter to be a little bit longer, with some quality Bucky and Evie time. This chapter is kind of a mess but it's semi funny so like.... I'm sorry???? I don't know. 
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments and kudos! Let me know what you think of this newest chapter!

“You’re adorable,” Steve commented as Evie sucked happily from her dark green Starbucks straw, eyes bright and twinkling with the caffeine and sugar rush from her blended drink. She scrunched her nose in his direction as they made their way out of the shop, Steve stuffing his wallet in the back pocket of his dark wash jeans- the pair that hugged his ass and straightened to a comfortable fit and made Evie blush whenever he bent down- and holding the front door open for his girl. 

“Thanks, baby,” she cooed, standing on her tiptoes for a quick kiss, juggling with her drink so she could tug her beanie down lower over her ears, the cold New York air whipping around them and tossing her curls into her face. Steve smiled warmly at her from behind Aviator sunglasses, rolling his shoulders to bring the collar of his mahogany leather jacket closer to his ears; he’d left it unzipped, his thick knitted navy sweater making him even thicker than normal, big and beefy and looking ready to be slapped on the cover of GQ’s fall collection magazine. 

“Where to first, sugar?” he asked, taking a sip from his steaming black coffee and waving a big hand at the streets around them. 

“You’re the one who wanted to come out here,” she teased, wrapping her arms around her torso and trying not to look cold. Steve had all but bitched her out when she’d stepped out of her apartment in nothing but a sweater, leggings, and some thin ass ‘fall’ boots. Her sweater was her favorite blush pink color, cable knit and loose around the collar, showing off the dips of her collarbones, but she’d worn it thin, the fabric thin and faded around her elbows and shoulders. It protected her against the cooling city air about as well as the Walmart leggins she’d sported, thick enough to not be see through, but thin enough she felt every breeze and gust of wind down to her core. 

So now they were, per Steve’s usual, out shopping for clothes, replacing the wardrobe Evie had been nursing since high school. 

Steve huffed out a laugh, his breath a white puff in the chilly air in front of them, the orange October sun glinting off his sunglasses. God, sometimes he made Evie’s stomach hurt, looking so good all the time. 

“This way,” he said, snagging her hand in his and dragging her eagerly down the street. “I know the perfect place.” 

Which meant Evie would probably hate it, it mostly being the numbers stamped on dangling price tags, but she’d learned not to argue when he felt like indulging in the  _ sugar  _ part of being her sugar daddy. 

He led her down a couple of streets to a tall department store, an intimidating stone building standing ten stories high with the words  _ Saks Fifth Avenue  _ stamped into the concrete. 

“Oh, no.” 

Steve grinned wolfishly and held the door open for her. 

“Oh, yes.” 

He led them straight through to a woman dressed in all black sitting behind a marble desk, snapping a piece of gum and adjusting her headset. Her eyeliner looked sharp enough to stab a man and Evie gulped. 

“Excuse me,” Steve said softly, leaning against the counter just slightly and pushing a few stray hairs off his forehead. The fucker- he knew he looked good, looked like some sort of windswept sex god that fucked his way into the fashion industry. “I was just wondering- is Pepper working today?” 

The woman behind the desk just raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and blew a bubble in Steve’s face. Evie wanted to simultaneously high five and make out with her. 

“Darcy, what did I tell you about being mean to customers?” A professional looking blonde woman stepped up to the desk, her skinny heels clicking against the marble floors, a free hand swiping her bangs out of her eyes. Her knee length tweed skirt and blazer couldn’t have been more different than the black skinny jeans and sweater of the woman behind the desk, but it was equally as intimidating. 

“I wasn’t being mean,” Darcy said easily, popping her gum and inspecting a sharp set of almond shaped acrylic black nails. “Blondie was trying to seduce me. I mean, if I wasn’t at work, I’d fuck you six ways to Sunday, no doubt.” The woman in grey sent her an incredulous, outraged look so she tacked on a grumbled, “Sir.” to the end of her sentence. 

“But I am at work, so I gotta pass on what would probably be the best night of your life.” 

“I wasn’t- I was just-.” Steve looked helplessly between Darcy and the other woman, his face and neck flushing dark red. Evie fought the desire to laugh. 

“It’s good to see you, Steve,” the other woman said, laughter in her voice as she stepped forward to hug him. “Darcy’s my new assistant. She, uh, she has a way with the customers.” 

“Mazel tov,” Darcy added, reaching under the desk and pulling out an unopened box of wine. She uncapped the spout and filled her Lilo and Stitch themed tumbler with sloshy red liquid. 

“Darcy, that’s supposed to be for the  _ customers.”  _

“Hey, high school economics labeled customers as consumers, and I’m going to  _ consume _ this wine.” She raised her tumbler in a toast before taking a gulp and the other woman sighed. 

“What brings you to the womens department, Steve?” 

“We need your help getting a new wardrobe,” he said, pulling Evie under his arm with a charming smile. “This is Evie. Evie, this is Tony’s fiance, Pepper.” 

“Hi,” she said shyly, shaking Pepper’s hand and staring wide eyed at the monster of a diamond sitting on her left hand. 

“Tony likes to show off,” Pepper said, shaking her head. “The concept of ‘too much’ isn’t exactly in his vocabulary.” 

“Weird,” Evie said, looking pointedly up at Steve. “Sounds like someone else I know.” 

He pinched her side and stared resolutely forward as she laughed and wiggled away from him. 

“Anyway,” he said, ignoring Evie’s giggles, trying to fight the way the corner of his lips twitched up. “New clothes?” 

“No problem,” Pepper said, looping her arm through Evie’s and leading her deeper into the store. Evie gulped and Steve just grinned. 

Two and a half hours later, Evie tugged yet another pair of dark skinny jeans off, Pepper was calmly comparing two thick sweaters next to her. She’d led them back to fancy looking dressing rooms, complete with a floor to ceiling mirror and another two smaller mirrors next to it to show every angle of the outfit. Steve was outside, lounging comfortably on a suede couch and scrolling through his phone next to an ever growing pile of clothes. 

“How do you feel about something a little fancier?” Pepper asked, leaning against the wall as Evie finally escaped the pants. She threw her hair out of her face and huffed a little. 

“Um.” 

“Nothing too much,” she added, cupping her chin and looking at Evie thoughtfully. Clad in only her Khol’s nude bra and some Fruit of the Loom underwear, she wanted to shrink away from the other woman’s gaze. “But I have an outfit I think would look amazing on you.” 

“Uh, sure? If you wanna try it.” 

“Great.” Pepper clapped her hands together and grinned. “Steve’s going to lose his mind. I’ll be right back.” 

With that comforting thought, she disappeared out of the dressing room. 

She came back just a few minutes later, grinning widely. Evie eyed her nervously. 

“Try these on.” 

These ended up being a high waisted burnt orange skirt, the color of some of the leaves skuttling around the streets outside, and a black cropped sweater that left a patch of pale skin revealed and open. The skirt fit snug around her hips, flaring out just a little and making her waist look itty bitty, the loose fit of the crop top emphasizing her tits without making them overpowering. Pepper handed her a pair of black stockings, the thick fabric stopping in the middle of her thighs. It was sexy, yeah, but modest enough to look like she wasn’t trying. Steve was going to have an aneurism. 

Pepper slow clapped and spun her around in a circle in front of the mirrors, grinning. 

“Let’s show him,” she said excitedly, and all but pushed Evie out into the seating area. Steve didn’t look up right away, scrolling lazily through his phone; Evie tried not to stare. He just- looked so good, all the time. Lounging comfortably on that fancy couch, his thick legs spread enough to show off how much space his frame took up, one long arm thrown over the back of the couch, artists fingers tapping nonsensically against the fabric. She wanted to crawl between his legs, nuzzle against the inside of his thigh, in the warm crease of the v of his body, and never move. 

Pepper cleared her throat pointedly and jostled Evie forward a couple steps; Steve finally looked up then, clear blue eyes automatically brightening with a smile and then going dark, his pupils expanding visibly as he dropped his phone into his lap. His entire body shifted, moving forward on the couch so he could rest his elbows on his knees, one hand rubbing idly across his beard, like he was holding himself from either touching or something something incredibly impolite. 

“Damn, baby doll,” he husked, voice rough and gravely. He cleared his throat and forced himself to sit back, rolling his shoulders and tugging a little at his sweater collar. “You- I like that one. I mean, I’ve liked them all. You’re beautiful in, uh, in everything. But that- this one- yeah. We’ll get this one, for sure.” 

“Very eloquent,” Pepper teased, and Steve didn’t even take his eyes off his girl to flip the blonde off. “Alright, let’s get you changed so you two can go home and Steve can stop drooling all over my floors.” 

Changing back into her normal clothes, Evie hesitated before looking over to Pepper, who was hanging the rejects back of their hangers and humming calmly. 

“Hey, uh, Pepper?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Do you guys, not today, I don’t think, but, uh, do you guys sell lingerie and… stuff?” 

“And here I was, thinking you and Steve had nothing common,” she teased. Evie smiled awkwardly and shrugged a little. “We do, but that’s not exactly my area of expertise. If you want something really nice, I’ll give you the name of the girl I know on the fifth floor. She’s wonderful and very discreet. She’ll make sure you get what you want without making it uncomfortable.” 

“That sounds amazing.” 

Pepper smiled and scribbled down the woman’s name on the back of a business card before leading them out of the dressing room to where Steve was waiting, a pile of clothes strung over his arm. 

“Ready?” he asked brightly, leaning down to kiss Evie’s cheek and turning his body away when she tried to take the clothes from him. “I got it, sugar.” 

She made an obscure whining noise and he just grinned and led the way to the checkout. 

“I hate this,” she grumbled as the cashier started manually typing in prices, a second cashier neatly folding each garment in tissue paper and layering them in expensive looking bags. The skinny green numbers were already blinking past four hundred dollars and she’d only made it through a couple of shirts. It made her chest feel tight and uncomfortable. That was more than a month’s rent. On  _ clothes.  _

“Stop it,” Steve scolded softly, a brick wall of muscle behind her, spinning her gently so her nose bumped against his chest. He slid a big hand to the back of her neck and squeezed lightly- a reminder, kind of, to be good, to let him do nice things for her. That he was in charge and he was going to take care of everything. 

He made sure she didn’t see the total as he swiped his card and scooped the bags up before she had a chance to. 

“Where to now?” he asked, leading them back out into the cool city air. 

“No more shopping, please,” she practically begged. She looked around at the bustling streets and chewed her lip, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. “Can we just- can we go get slushies from a shitty gas station and drive for a while?” 

“Of course, honey.” Steve thread his fingers through hers and turned them the opposite direction, walking back towards the complex where they’d parked the car. “There’s some hills outside the city we could watch the sunset from. Does that sound good?” 

Evie couldn’t nod fast enough. Being outside the city, holed up in the car, closed off from everything except Steve sounded like perfection. 

“Hey,” Steve said gently, catching her attention as he slid into the driver's seat and starting his car with a smooth rumble. “You okay?” 

“I have a question.” 

“Go for it.” 

She chewed the inside of her cheek before- “Can I suck your dick, daddy?” 

Steve made a noise similar to a can of compressed air being punctured, his cheeks burning bright red, hands tightening on the steering wheel. 

“You can’t just ask me that,” he wheezed as Evie blinked innocently. “Yes, God- yes, baby, you can suck me off. C’mere, Jesus.” 

With shaking fingers, Evie unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the console, burying her face in the warm denim of Steve’s thigh and wiggling around slightly to get comfortable. One of Steve’s shovel hands came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers just barely braiding into her hair as he forced himself to take a slow, deep breath. 

“That’s it, honey, that’s it. Get me hard, yeah.” 

Evie placed a line of soft kisses along the cold teeth of his zipper, sighing happily as Steve lifted his hips just slightly so she could unbutton and wiggle his pants down. She wedged her wrist into his boxers and yanked them down to free his thick cock, settling them just below his balls. God, there was nothing like this, the weight of his dick pressing heavily at the back of her throat, the soft, breathy groans slipping past Steve’s lips, his foot leaning ever so slightly heavier on the gas pedal the further she sucked him down. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fingers tightening in her hair. “Come on, honey, take it all. I know you can.” 

The whine that slipped out of her mouth was entirely accidental but it seemed it spur Steve on, his hand pressing down on her head until her lips were pressed against the smooth skin at the base of his dick, faintly tasting sweat and the heady cotton of his boxers. Her throat contracted around him, gagging against the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat, and Steve’s foot twitched on the pedal; the car lurched forward a bit and Evie moaned, knowing she was having that much of an effect on her daddy. 

Rolling his ball gently in her hand, Evie took a deep breath through her nose and forced that last bit of Steve’s cock into her throat, tears squeezing out the corners of her eyes; he held her down as her last little bit of air ran out, forcing her to stay in position as she struggled to breathe. She moaned, low and slow, the submissive, floaty part of her brain taking over. Steve was in charge. Steve knew what she needed, when she needed it. 

He must’ve felt her go pliant under his touch because he grunted, the speedometer ticking up and over eighty as they cruised through the now dirt roads leading out of the city. 

“Aah, honey, baby doll, just- suck a little harder,  _ yes.  _ Yes, yeah, I’m fuckin’, I’m gonna come.” 

And he did, hissing a breath out through his nose and spurting hot and thick down Evie’s throat; she groaned and tried to swallow all of it as he came, only succeeding in getting most of it, some dribbling out the corner of her mouth and drooling down his cock. So, naturally, she pulled off, her first, deep breath making her head spin, and trailed her tongue across what she missed. Steve just shuddered in his seat, flexing both hands on the steering wheel hard enough that the leather groaned under his fingers. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathed, carefully pulling over to the side of the road and jerkily putting the car in park, leaning his head back against the headrest and taking a deep breath. “God, I think you sucked out part of my soul.” 

She giggled and kissed his cheek. 

“Love you, daddy.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart. So much.” He slid a meaty hand to the back of her neck and pecked her lips. “You doing okay?” 

“Mhmm. So good.” 

“Little better than earlier?” 

She nodded and he smiled sweetly, kissing her forehead. 

“That’s good, honey. That’s real good. Do you still want to watch the sunset or do you want to head back to my place so I can bury my face in your pussy?” 

“Steve!” Evie flushed and smacked his shoulder, glaring playfully at his comfortable grin. “You can’t just say that,” she mocked him, and he laughed. 

“Take me home,” she decided as he tucked his softening cock back into his pants. “I miss Doger and Queenie. And I also want to orgasm. I guess.” 

Steve snorted, shaking his head and buckling his belt before stilling. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“You called it home.”

“I, uh, I guess I did.”

A face splitting grin spread across his face, soft and warm and beautiful, and he pulled her in for a long, hot kiss, both hands cupping her face. He kissed her until they were both breathless, the front window of the car starting to fog, Steve’s eyes searching her face endlessly. She had no idea what he was looking for, but he must have found it. 

Because, later that week, when Evie was groggy and sipping too hot coffee at the kitchen island in nothing but one of Steve’s Brooklyn Cyclones shirts, he slid a gold house key across the island to her. 

“Wass that?” she asked, blinking sleepily at him. He was already showered and dressed in navy slacks and a grey button up, his crisp tan shoes, and looking so unfairly hot. Evie’s hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she was going to be lucky if she decided to wear pants at all today. 

“I had my landlord make an extra key for the penthouse. It’s, uh, it’s for you. You can come and go whenever you want, whether or not I’m home. I’ll clean out some space in my room and in the bathroom for you.” 

“You- Steve, are you asking me to move in with you right now? Because if you are, I’m refusing, because I’m half asleep and look like a witch from the depths of the black lagoon. Like, I have to piss and my nipples are basically hitting my belly button cause I’m not wearing a bra. No. I’m refusing to let this happen this way. You’re ruining all my dreams.” 

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Steve made his way across the island to place his hands on either side of her head, just above her ears, and kiss her forehead. 

“I love you. You weird little human. I love you. And no, this is not me asking you to move in with me. I’ll make sure you’re wearing pants when I do that.” 

She crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him over her coffee mug; he just smiled fondly at her. 

“I just thought this could kinda be a halfway point for you. It’s closer to the bar than your apartment, so you can always come here when you’re done, instead of having to go all the way towards campus. I know for a fact my Wifi is faster than yours, so you can do homework here. And, ya know.” He blushed and focused on linking his watch around his wrist. “I like waking up to you every morning.” 

“Even if I look like a creature from the black lagoon?” 

“You don’t, but yes.” 

“God, you really know how to charm a woman, Steven Grant.” She smacked a wet kiss to his cheek before hopping on the counter; he tickled the inside of her thighs, laughing as she smacked at him before retreating to the coffee maker. 

“So what are your plans for today, sweetheart?” he asked, pouring himself a steaming cup and adding half a shake of sugar. Gross. 

“I’m not really sure. I kinda wanna go hiking before I have to work tonight. The leaves have started changing and it’s supposed to be really nice today.”

“Text Bucky,” Steve offered, pulling a cardigan off the back of one of the island chairs and sliding it over his huge shoulders. “He loves stuff like that. I’ll leave Doger with you and maybe you guys can take him and Tashka with you.” 

“Hit with me those digits, Steven,” Evie said, holding out her phone. “I think I’m only going to refer to you as Steven from now on. Including in bed.” 

“Please don’t,” he groaned, typing Bucky’s number into her phone. “My ma calls me Steven.” 

“ _ Especially  _ in bed.” 

“You’re evil.” 

Evie scrunched up her face, knocking her head back and grabbing at her boobs with both hands, spreading her legs and kicking against the island to mimic the sound of Steve’s headboard hitting the wall. 

“Oh,  _ oh, Steven,  _ fuck me harder,  _ Steven.”  _

Steve visibly shuddered and handed her the phone back. 

“I’ve created a monster.” 

“You love me.” 

“I do. So very much. Especially when you call me Steve.” 

“Noted, Steven.” 

“God damn it.” 

Evie cackled and hopped off the counter, tugging Steve down by his sweater sleeve for a kiss before shooing him out the door. 

“Get to work, ya slacker. I’ve got to get ready for a date with your best friend.” 


	13. Jack (Rollins) and Coke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How was the hike?” he asked, following the chopsticks and knocking at Bucky’s knees as he passed the brunette. He plopped into the loveseat and pulled Evie down next to him, smacking another kiss on her cheek before popping the take out box open and winding noodles around his chopsticks.
> 
> “Enlightening,” Evie said, distracting herself by scratching lovingly behind Queenie’s floppy ears. Bucky just smirked and Steve paused with a glob of rich brown noodles halfway to his open mouth.
> 
> “Oh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes, it's been nine million years since I've updated and I'm so sorry. A lot of things happen in this chapter and I tried to make it longer to make up for the fact that I SUCK. 
> 
> Happy reading!

**From Cute Steven:**

**Hey, I’m not giving away any information, but whatever happens today with Buck, I love you and I trust you. I trust him. Whatever you guys do is totally okay with me. Buck and I already talked about it. I love you.**

_ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?  _

Evie stared blankly at her phone as she waited outside her apartment for Bucky to pick her up, Doger sniffing determinedly at the bushes to the side of the front porch. They already talked about  _ what?  _ Bucky was talking about her with Steve? As panic started to rise in her stomach, Bucky’s SUV pulled into the parking lot, spitting gravel as he rolled to a stop in front of her place. He waved happily from the driver’s side, reaching across the car to shoo Tashka into the backseat as Evie opened up the door. 

“Hey, kid,” he greeted happily, whistling softly to get Doger into the car, who clambered straight into the back to nuzzle at Tashka’s coat. 

“Hey, Bucky.” She hiked herself into his car and buckled up, jumping a little as he dropped a bag of flavored waters and granola bars into her lap. “What’s this?” 

“Snacks,” he said easily, pulling out of the parking lot and smiling as she pawed through the bag. 

“Funyons?” 

“Hey, they’re delicious. We can’t all be organic food snobs like Steve.” 

“Speaking of Steve-,” 

“If you’re about to ask me about his super cryptic text, I’m not explaining it.” He smirked when she whined in frustration. “It’s a surprise.” 

“I hate surprises.” 

“And I hate onions, but I can still enjoy a nice fistful of Funyons, so hush.” 

“Ha, fisting. That’s what she said.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, emphasizing the pretty cupids bow of his upper lip, the soft plumpness of his lower lip, and he leveled her with a smoldering look as he merged onto the highway. 

“Kinky,” he clucked, dark eyes looking her up and down. 

“You flirt with all Steve’s girlfriends like this?” 

“Only the cute ones.” He reached across the console to drum his fingers against her knee. Evie ignored the way her face flushed red and unscrewed one of the fancy electrolyte waters. Anything to have something to do with her hands. 

“I’m just giving you shit,” he said, noticing the annoyance flickering across her face. “I’m in a very committed relationship with my left hand, thank you very much.” 

Evie stuck her tongue out at him before-, “Wait, you use your  _ left _ hand?” 

He shrugged a little, tapping the reflective fingers on the steering wheel and watching the way the sun glinted across the windshield. 

“Sometimes.”

“Doesn’t the, ya know, the plating get caught on your-,” 

“Foreskin? Nah. I use a lot of lube.” 

Huffing, Evie shoved her hair away from her face, turning up the air conditioning a few clicks to cool the blush spreading down her neck. Bucky just smirked and turned his attention back to the road, riding with her in silence out of the city and to a set of trails and sloping hills and jagged cliffs. 

“We’re here,” he announced, parking the car in a sandy spot and hopping out, already moving to release the bouncing dogs from the backseat. “Can you grab a couple of those waters and throw them in my bag?” 

“Sure.” 

“Thanks, kid.” 

Evie just rolled her eyes and swung out of the car, bag in tow. Bucky’s metal fingers plucked the backpack from her shoulder, a smirk dancing on his frustratingly full lips, and fit it across the wide spread of his shoulders. He whistled a little to get Tashka’s attention, who was enthusiastically gnawing on a rock, and the four of them started off, the dogs trotting easily a few paces ahead of them. 

“If you’re looking for somewhere with a view, there’s a rock formation at the top of one of the cliffs that hangs above a canyon not too far from here. It’s kinda steep, but the view is worth it.” 

“Let’s do it.” 

A naughty smile spread across his lips. 

“Here? If you say so.” And he reached down to the button of his jeans, adjusting them just a little- enough for Evie to see him shift the sizeable bulge lurking behind his zipper. 

“What? No,  _ no, Bucky.  _ Not what I meant.” 

“I mean, I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist, but everybody’s got their kinks.” 

_ “I meant let’s climb the cliff not let’s fuck in the middle of the forest.”  _

He chuckled and shrugged one shoulder, starting back up on their path again while Evie followed behind him, red-faced and grumbling. 

“Secrets don’t make friends,” he sang cheerfully, looking over his shoulder at her. She just flipped him off and he laughed outright this time, shaking his head a little. He lifted his red baseball cap off his head and raked his fingers through his hair before fitting it back on, the bill leaving his grey eyes in shadow. “C’mon, kid, what’s on your mind?” 

“You don’t have to keep calling me kid, ya know. I’m not that much younger than you.” 

“Nahh, you’re just a baby. Steve’s little sugar baby.” 

“I’m not his-,” 

“I know you’re not about to argue with me about being his sugar baby,” Bucky said, loudly talking over her. “Cause that’s just insulting.” 

“But I’m not a sugar baby,” she whined, eyeing his forearms as he rolled up the sleeves of his black henley. 

“Yeah, and I have both my arms. What else do we wanna lie about while we’re at it?” 

“Bucky, I’m being serious.” 

“My dick  _ isn’t  _ enormous.” 

“Bucky.” 

“I’m a horrible and selfish lover.” 

_ “Bucky.”  _

“Steve Rogers is a power top.” 

“You’re such a- wait, what?” 

Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes, ducking under a branch that Evie just walked under. 

“You don’t listen very well, do you, kid?” 

“Stop calling me kid,” she whined, just a little, and followed him off the trail and over a couple of small hills. She was starting to pick up salty hints of the ocean, could very faintly hear the hiss of waves scrolling onto the store, the slap of water on rock. 

“Why? It’s fun. I like seeing you all worked up over it.” 

She wrinkled her nose at him, sticking her tongue out as well, and he just laughed. 

“You’re not doing much to help your case.” 

So she flipped him off again. Which also did nothing to phase him. 

Their conversation tapered off after that, the two of them focusing instead on carefully navigating through the trails, which got progressively rockier and steeper the further they went. The dogs just hopped around in front of them, clambering easily through the rocks and sand and silently judging Bucky and Evie as they climbed. 

“Are we close to the top?” Evie panted, taking half a second to rest her hands on her knees, rubbing her forehead against her shoulder to get some of the sweat off. 

“Almost,” Bucky grunted, shamelessly glancing down her shirt. “Fuck, I’m out of shape.” He grabbed the hem of his henley and pulled it up to smear across his red face, revealing a tight six pack and jutting Adonis lines, his hip bones sharp points on either side. He wasn’t as broad as Steve was, had less packed on muscle, but he was just- big. It was like someone had carefully packed layers of muscles and displayed them on miles and miles of olive tinted skin. All of it dusted neatly with a patch of dark, curly chest hair that formed a soft line that dipped below his belly button.

“Oh yeah,” Evie said, sarcasm syrup thick in her voice. “Clearly so out of shape. God, you’ve really let yourself go, Bucky. Should be ashamed of yourself.” 

He grinned and shook his head before just pulling his shirt the rest of the way off, stuffing it into his bag and turning his hat backwards on his head. Evie scanned quickly over his body, trying not to stare but getting caught up in the angry red scarring raking over his left shoulder, down his left side. She caught a glimpse of what looked like a healed bullet hole below his nipple, with a matching circle on his back. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he called as he turned his back to her and started climbing again. 

“Fuck off, Bucky.” 

“Want me to use the left or right one?” 

“Left!” she yelled, slipping a little on some rock pieces, sending them tumbling down the hill. “With no lube.” 

“Aww, that’s just mean,” he teased, smirking down at her with his hands on his hips as he hit a flat spot. The spot behind him, though, was a flat wall of rocks with a small ledge that stood a couple minutes above Bucky’s head. Evie’s eyebrows drew together as she all but crawled to where he was standing. What the hell? 

“You gotta jump,” he explained simply, gesturing to the ledge. “Then it’s just the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean.” 

“Okay, but how are we supposed to get, ya know, up there?” 

“Easy.” He turned to the wall and widened his stance just a little, jumping up to grab at the ledge with metal fingers that clamped down with surprising dexterity; he pulled himself up with his left arm,  _ not even using his other arm like some sort of monster,  _ and crawled back so he could smile down at her. 

“So how do those of us without robot arms get up there?” 

“Well, if you just jump a little and grab my hand, I can pull you up.” 

“But the dogs-,” 

“Are already up here. I watched them jump while you were lying to me about being Steve’s sugar baby.” 

“Ugh, I am  _ not-,”  _

“I don’t care.” He cut her off boredly and her mouth snapped shut so she could glare at him. “You gonna jump or not?” 

“Are you sure that’s not going to hurt you?” 

“Trust me, kid, I’ve pulled Tony up here without injury. I think I can handle you.” 

Chewing her lip, Evie flickered her eyes to the ledge and back down where her dirty boots rested. 

“I- okay.” 

“You’re gonna want to grab my forearm when you jump,” Bucky advised, shimmying on his perch so he was lying on his stomach, scooting down and extending his left arm. “Cause I’m gonna have to squeeze and I don’t want to break your pretty little fingers.” 

“That sounds fair.” 

“On three, okay? One, two,  _ three.”  _

Jumping up and hoping to God she got high enough to reach him, Evie clasped a little desperately at his hand, curling her fingers around smooth, cool metal and feeling her feet lift higher and higher off the ground. 

Bucky barely grunted as he pulled her up over the edge. And he was right- the view was worth it. 

They were seated on a smooth slab of rock, maybe ten feet wide, with vine covered trees and mossy boulders on either side of them; the rock extended out shortly before dropping off into the ledge of the cliff they’d just climbed, a straight shot directly down to where the ocean foamed over jagged looking black rocks. From their perch, she could see for miles, nothing but smooth blue water and thin clouds, the glimmer of a distant whale surfacing. 

“Wow,” she breathed, wiggling around to fold her legs criss cross in front of her. There wasn’t a ton of room to spread out, especially with the dogs lying to her left and looking sleepy and happy, so her knee bumped against Bucky’s thigh as they sat. 

“Told you,” he said simply, smiling a little at her before looking back out at the water. He’d left his shirt off and she was drawn immediately to his scars, looking so much more vivid and angry now that they were close. “You can touch them, if you want. I don’t mind.” 

He didn’t look back over as she slowly extended her hand, thin fingers just barely tracing the brutal, jagged lines, light enough to raise goosebumps across his skin. 

“It’s so weird, feeling you do that,” he breathed, grabbing for her wrist when she went to pull it away. “Not bad weird. Just different. All my nerves got severed in the accident, but I can still feel things on my skin, if that makes sense. And the arm registers temperature and pressure, but not what touch actually feels like.” 

“That-,” Evie paused, running her index finger over a particularly bold line. “Honestly, that sounds kind of horrible. Not being able to feel.” 

He chuckled without humor. 

“Yeah. Everybody thinks it’s easy, because I have a cool prosthetic and can feel temperature and pressure. There’s a lot of guys who don’t get that luxury. But I still lost my arm, ya know? There’s literally a part of me that is gone, that I won’t ever be able to have again.” He rolled his shoulders and leaned back, drawing his legs in closer to himself. Evie watched him close himself off, shut her out as he turned to look at her with a charming grin that didn’t come close to meeting his eyes. 

“The girls that let me touch them with it, though? Damn, they were into it. You’d be surprised what they were willing to do in college to get fingered by a robotic arm.” 

“Ew.” 

He just winked and Evie threw a pebble at him. Catching her hand as she lowered it, he tilted his head just slightly to the side, his tongue swiping out to wet his lower lip, dark eyes stormy and thoughtful. 

“You wanna know what Steve’s text this morning was about?” 

Evie blinked a little and drew her eyebrows together. 

“That’s- random, but sure, I guess.” 

And Bucky just fucking leaned in and kissed her. 

And, fuck, was he good at it, lips just barely brushing hers before sinking in deeper, head tilting at just the right angle so their noses bumped but didn’t get in the way; his hand dropped her and made its way to her knotted ponytail, slipping his fingers through the waves and tugging her in that much closer. 

He kissed so much different than Steve, who always let her at least pretend to fight for dominance before taking it from her. Bucky demanded submission, his lips moving against hers with bruising force, their teeth clacking as his tongue pushed into her mouth, his hand slipping down to grip the back of her neck. Evie moaned a little at the filthiness of it, the power and finesse and lack of hesitation. Steve was always the one in control, yeah, but he moved like he held a secret behind his lips, always ready to pull back or stop or tease, whatever the situation called for. 

Which, wait. 

Steve.  _ Steve.  _ Bucky’s best friend and her boyfriend and- 

_ “Bucky, stop.”  _

It took both hands to shove the brunette off her, but she did it. 

“What’s the matter, sugar?” he asked, blinking dopily at her and letting a slow grin roll across his kiss-reddened lips. 

Right before Evie backhanded him across the face. 

“What the fuck was that for?” he howled, cupping his cheek and scooting as far away from her as the rocks would allow. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demanded back, rubbing her hand a little and pretending it didn’t hurt.

“You didn’t seem that opposed in the moment.” 

“I didn’t know what was happening!” 

Bucky’s eyes searched her face, warm and grey, and a smile twitched at his lips. 

“You’re gonna be so fun to take apart later.” 

“I am dating your best friend.” 

“Look.” He took a deep breath and lifted his hat up, raking metal fingers through his hair before settling the cap back over his eyes. “Steve came over one night, couple weeks ago, and mentioned a threesome after a couple of beers. We talked about it after he sobered up and he’s okay with me, ya know, hopping into bed with the two of you if you’re up to it. This was supposed to be me asking if that’s something you’d wanna try. Kinda got distracted by your mouth, though.” And that charming, handsome smirk was back. 

Evie narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, chewing the inside of her cheek. On one hand, Steve getting toasty and inviting Bucky in for a threesome eliminated any of the awkward fumbling that would’ve inevitably happened if she tried to bring it up. But he also hadn’t mentioned it, at all, to her, and she was kind of a necessary part to making that sausage party a threesome. 

“You two are terrible communicators and I hate you both.” 

Bucky’s eyes lit up. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“We have to talk to Steve,” she said, drawing her knees up and reaching out a shaking hand to pet Doger. “Together. Boundaries, logistics, all that stuff.” 

He nodded as she spoke, one lazy finger drawing a pattern on her upper arm, raising goosebumps on her skin. 

“Wanna head back and meet him as his place? He should be getting off work just as we’d get there.” 

“Let’s stop at that Chinese place he likes so much on the way. Bribe him with some egg rolls. Especially cause he probably hasn’t eaten all day.” 

Bucky just smiled and led the way back. 

………..

Steve should have known something was up when he walked up to his apartment and heard Bucky’s booming laugh and the scuttle of doggy toenails on the hardwoods. And he definitely should’ve known when Evie cheerfully greeted him from behind the island with a cold bottle of his favorite beer and a white take out box of his favorite lo mein noodles. 

“How did you guys even get in here?” he asked, taking the beer and stooping to kiss Evie’s cheek. “Hi, honey.” 

“Hi. Bucky picked the lock,” she said sheepishly. “I left my key at my apartment.” 

“You should really invest in a security system,” Bucky called lazily from his spot on the couch, his socked feet kicked onto the leather, one thumb flicking through Netflix. 

“You should really get your feet off my couch. That’s Italian leather.” 

“Couches were made for laying, Steven. Be a doll and bring me another beer?” 

Steve threw a set of chopsticks at him instead. 

“How was the hike?” he asked, following the chopsticks and knocking at Bucky’s knees as he passed the brunette. He plopped into the loveseat and pulled Evie down next to him, smacking another kiss on her cheek before popping the take out box open and winding noodles around his chopsticks. 

“Enlightening,” Evie said, distracting herself by scratching lovingly behind Queenie’s floppy ears. Bucky just smirked and Steve paused with a glob of rich brown noodles halfway to his open mouth. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhmm. Finally found out how good your girl kisses.” 

Evie’s cheeks flamed, Steve freezing next to her. He cleared his throat thickly and set his food down on the coffee table, hands shaking just slightly. 

“We wanted to talk to you about- all of it,” Evie said softly, bringing Queenie into her lap and holding her tiny, warm body close. “Boundaries, what this thing is gonna look like, what we all want and expect. That kinda thing.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Steve tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear and kissed the shell of it. “How do you want this to work?” 

Painfully aware of the fact that both men were staring, Evie huffed out a breath and sorted through her jumbled thoughts. 

“I just want to feel safe,” she said quietly. “I’m okay with power play and you guys being all dommy, but no, like, I don’t know.” 

“But make sure we check in.” Bucky scooted up the couch a little and sat back on his mismatched elbows. “Steve told me you guys use the stoplight system, so we can just do that.” He pointed a metal finger at Steve. “That goes for you, too, punk. Know your limits.” 

Steve just stuck his tongue out and crinkled his nose. 

“I know my limits,” he argued. “They just happen to be very, very distant a lot of the time.” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and settled back against the couch with both hands folded behind his head, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek before speaking. 

“So we’re doing this? We’re good?” 

Sharing a look with Evie, Steve nodded slowly. 

“Sweet. So, Stevie, you wanna show me how you kiss your girl?” 

Heat immediately pooled in the pit of Evie’s gut, stomach clenching as she glanced over at Steve, watching him work that muscle in his jaw as he and Bucky stared each other down. 

“Sure,” he said, way too casually for someone with pupils as blown as his. He turned slightly so his knee bumped hers, all broad shoulders and wide palms that shook slightly as he cupped her face. His eyes searched hers, checking one last time that this was okay, before he leaned down and pressed his lips dryly to hers. 

“C’mon, Steve, like you mean it. I’ve kissed my ma better than that.” 

Huffing out a breath through his nose, Steve raised one hand to flip his friend off before tangling it into Evie’s hair, his tongue swiping across her lower lip and followed shortly by the clip of his teeth. She chased the feeling, a soft moan slipping out as she scooted closer to him, pulling him impossibly closer by the front of his shirt. She could feel Bucky watching them, could picture the arrogant, intrigued smirk on his face and it was making her blood sear through her veins white hot and needy. 

“Yeah, that’s it. Why don’t you get your girl outta that flannel, Stevie? She looks a little warm.” 

Their lips split with a quiet smack, Steve’s long fingers slipping through her buttons while he looked her over. A million questions burst behind his eyes, checking in with her, making sure this was what they both wanted, and she answered all of them by wordlessly holding her hand out towards Bucky on the couch. Inviting him over. 

“So impatient,” he teased calmly, all but shoving her into Steve’s lap as he made room for himself behind her, settling her comfortably between his legs once he got situated. Steve finished the last button on her shirt and threw it open, mouth immediately latching onto the exposed patches of freckled skin as Bucky peeled the fabric off her shoulders and tossed it on the ground. He clucked his tongue in disappointment as her undershirt, winding his arms around her front and gripping the cotton with both hands. Tearing it easily, he threw the shredded camisole next to her flannel. 

Evie’s mouth popped open with an indignant, “Hey!” on her tongue but Bucky chose that moment to bite into the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Hard. 

“Fuck, ow! That hurt.” She swatted at him and he caught her wrist in his metal hand. 

“Be nice, Buck,” Steve mumbled from his cozy spot between Evie’s tits, big hands molding to the shape of her bra. She wished they would have told her this was happening; she would’ve worn something cuter than this simple black one. Maybe a push-up. Something sparkly to keep Bucky’s sporadic attention focused on them. Oh  _ shit  _ she was wearing Fruit of the Loom bikini underwear that she was 99.99999% sure were the ones with the period stain on them and she hadn’t shaved, well, anything really, except her armpits and-

“Okay, wait, wait. Uh, yellow? Hold on.” 

Steve immediately sat up and Bucky leaned back, dropping her hands instantly. 

“What’s wrong? Damn it, Buck, I told you not to go too rough with her. You-,” 

“No, hey. This isn’t about that.” Evie patted Steve’s hand and scooted back in the loveseat, tucking her knees up under her chin so her boobs were at least somewhat hidden. Bucky flicked Steve’s ear and the blonde swatted him back, which quickly turned into a smacking match with Evie sandwiched in the middle. 

“God, stop, you two are ridiculous,” she whined, knocking their hands away and glaring at them. “How either of you ever got laid is a mystery.” 

Bucky just grinned and Steve blushed. 

“Okay, really though,” Bucky said, settling into the corner of the loveseat and tossing his arm over the back. “Why the yellow?” 

“Was it too much?” Steve wormed close to her and tucked her under his arm, pressing a hot kiss to the top of her head. “It’s a lot to handle. We should’ve given you more time to think about it, worked up to this slowly.” 

“No, that’s not it.” She kissed the underside of his bearded jaw. “You worry too much, babe. I just- I didn’t know this was gonna be happening  _ today.  _ I’m not really prepared for, ya know, nudity.” 

“Need to do some weed whacking before Steve and I defile your garden?” Bucky’s smirk was infuriating so Evie kicked his thigh. 

“I hate you.” 

“You’re the one that wants me to fuck you.” 

“I never said that. Maybe I just want to watch you fuck Steve.” 

“Who said I was gonna fuck Steve?” 

“Me.” 

“You trying to give orders now, sugar?” Bucky’s eyes glinted dangerously, the blue grey of his pupils almost entirely swallowed by black, but Evie wasn’t backing down. 

“Maybe.” 

Bucky’s lips twisted into a smirk, everything about him dark and dangerous and dominant. Evie’s insides clenched but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it turned her on. 

It was interesting, how submitting to Steve felt natural, like coming home, and submitting to Bucky made something defiant and sarcastic rise up inside her. 

“Alright, I’m just gonna- move you-,” Steve slid his giant shovel hands under Evie’s arms, lifting her easily and sliding her across his lap so he was a physical barrier between her and Bucky. She glared playful daggers at the brunette as she reached for her phone on the coffee table. She groaned at the notification that popped up. 

“I have to go to work,” she whined at Steve’s confused look. “In, like, two hours, but still.” 

“Let me drive you home so you can change.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

“You wanna hang out here and we can stream the hockey game from last night, Buck?” 

“You read my mind.” He reclined in the loveseat and started tapping through his phone, every bit as casual as when they started. “Have a good shift, Evie.” 

“Thanks, Bucky.” Halfway through buttoning her flannel back up, she paused and stooped to kiss his cheek. He even had the audacity to blush. 

Steve led her out of the apartment with a polite on the small of her back, peppering little kisses along her ear and hair until they clambered into the car. 

“You’re tense,” she noted after a couple minutes of silence, reaching over to tap his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. 

“Just thinking.” 

“About?” 

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his carefully combed back hair. 

“Bucky can be… Intense, in bed. He’s kind of a masochist and I’m worried he won’t tone it down enough for you.” 

“Steve-,” 

“I mean, what we do is one thing. I know you can handle having a dominant partner. But having someone smack your ass a little and getting flogged are two completely different things.” 

“So Bucky’s into pain play. That’s okay.” 

“But-,” 

“Steve. Have you ever asked me about my kinks outside of calling you daddy?” 

He opened his mouth and promptly closed it. 

“Exactly. I’m not saying I wanna get tied up by my toenails and have someone beat the shit out of me. But I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t really wanna try rope stuff and maybe some, I don’t know, paddling or whipping or something.” 

Steve dropped his head onto the steering wheel with a short laugh. 

“You’re crazy,” he said fondly, turning his head to look at her with affection in his eyes. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, daddy.” 

…………….

“You’re late,” Pierce called out the second Evie practically tripped through the door, tangled up in her purse and coat and headphones. 

“I know, I’m sorry. The subway was running late. I tried calling but nobody picked up.”

“It’s coming out of your paycheck. I don’t get paid to answer phones. You do.” 

“But that doesn’t- I was the one calling.” 

“I’m still taking you being late out of your paycheck.” 

“Mr. Pierce, this is the first time I’ve actually been late since I started working here.” 

He just shrugged and flipped through a page on his clipboard. 

“You’ve got a new kid closing with you tonight,” he said as she clocked in and slid behind the bar. Evie refrained from smashing her head into the cash register. 

“Another one?” 

“He’s the last new hire for a while. We seem pretty well staffed going into the winter.” 

“Thank God.” 

He leveled her with a cold glare so she focused on restocking the clean glasses. 

“I like him, so don’t fuck anything up with him. I don’t have a problem firing you.” 

_ Then please just do it already and let this stupid bar run itself into the ground. _

“Noted. When is he coming in?” 

Pierce checked his watch and shrugged. 

“Half hour, maybe. I told him to come in when he felt like it.” 

“But I get in trouble for being late?” 

He raised a silver eyebrow and Evie just shut up. 

She worked through another half hour of her shift, Pierce waving goodbye through a crowd of people as she struggled to keep up with the drink demands, already sweaty and somewhat annoyed when the new guy came in. 

He popped behind the bar almost immediately, offering her a white-toothed smile and slamming through orders. He managed to charm the group of women sitting at the end of bar- a bachelorette party that’d been more than annoyed when Evie had told them they would have to pay for their tab at the end of the night, no matter who was getting married- and even made a few of them smile while Evie blended their margaritas. 

“I’m Jack,” he said, once all the craziness stopped and they were able to breathe. 

“Evie. Thank you for helping me with that. I really appreciate it.” 

He shrugged one shoulder, looking at her through incredibly thick and dark eyelashes that framed sparkling bright blue eyes. He kind of reminded her of a husky, with his dark hair and icy eyes. 

“I worked at a bar back in Michigan,” he said, rolling the sleeve of his black tshirt back down with an adorable little frown. “So I’m not totally out of my element.” 

“You’re from Michigan?” Evie asked, surprised, as she ran some of their beer glasses through the triple sink and sat them upside down to dry. He nodded and grabbed a rag to wipe down the bar as a few patrons left. 

“I’m from the East side, around Detroit,” he said, tossing the rag back in the sanitizer and starting to fill the bowls of peanuts sitting on the bartop. Bless him. “You?” 

“Ahh, West side,” she laughed, moving around him to the register to clear out a business man’s tab. “The best side, obviously.” 

Jack made an indignant noise, clapping a hand over his heart, and she laughed again. 

They worked through the rest of the night like that, swapping jokes and stories when they could. Jack was incredible behind the bar, keeping perfect track of his tabs and drink orders, making everything smoothly and efficiently with minimal help from Evie. 

“You did great tonight,” she told him as they sat in the back office, Jack counting his tips as Evie zeroed the register. 

“Thanks.” He smiled brightly at her, looking genuinely grateful. “Thanks for helping me out with that one order. I’m still adjusting to New York accents.” 

“No problem. It’s a process. My boyfriend is from Brooklyn and half the time he sounds like one of those over exaggerated cartoon characters.” 

“Forgeddabou’ it,” Jack said. “We’re wailkin’ ‘ere.” 

“That’s Steve for ya’.” 

He just laughed a little and shook his head. 

“You got a ride home?” he asked, watching her close the deposit into the safe and lock it. 

“I usually just take the subway.” 

“That shit is sketchy as fuck,” he said, standing with her and stretching a little. Evie got a glimpse of dark hair dusting finely carved abs as he shirt rode up. “Let me drive you home.” 

“I don’t want to make you go out of your way.” 

He was already shaking his head and wiggling his car keys. 

“Not out of my way. I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded. 

“Okay. I just have to lock up and we can go.” 

Jack waited patiently while she locked the front of the store, zipping his leather jacket up against the cold wind breezing through the city. 

“You all set?” he asked, jerking his head in the direction of a parking garage down the street. “I’m down here.” 

He led her to a newish looking Ford, something silvery with a few dents in the bumper and Zeta Kappa frat sticker on his back windshield. The hair on the back of Evie’s neck stood up and she stopped walking. That was the fraternity Brock was in. 

“You okay?” Brock asked, frowning a little as he unlocked the car.

“I- yeah, sorry.” Shaking her head, Evie got into the passengers side. Just because he was in Brock’s frat didn’t mean Jack was automatically an asshole. He might not even know Brock. 

“So where am I taking you?” 

She hesitated for half a second before giving him Steve’s address.

“Thank you for driving me home,” she said, already popping the door open and angling her body out of the car. She was being an idiot. He’d been so nice and kicked ass at the bar. But him being in the same fraternity as Brock was making Evie’s stomach twist nervously and she just wanted to get inside. 

“Of course.” He smiled warmly and waved a little. “Have a good night. Tell Steve I said hi.” 

It wasn’t until later, when she was laying in bed waiting or Steve to finish brushing her teeth, that she realized she’d never mentioned that this was Steve’s place. 


	14. Halloweiners

“You’re never home anymore,” Clint whined the next day as he and Evie sat at their favorite spot in the library, Evie’s iced tea and Clint’s black coffee sitting comfortably next to them on the table. Nat just pointed her black ink pen in Evie’s direction as an agreement without looking up from her Russian homework. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

“I noticed you got a fancy new key on your lanyard,” Nat said, eyes flickering to the lanyard and wallet sitting on the table by Evie’s elbow. Steve had surprised her with a new ID zip with a matching lanyard two days after giving her the key to his apartment, and she was trying her best not to get them dirty. 

“Yeah. Steve gave me a key to his place for when I’m in the area and need a place to go.” 

“So you’re living with him and didn’t tell us?” Clint looked ready to cry and guilt flooded Evie’s stomach. 

“No! No, I’m not living with him. The key is just so I can stop there if I need to. Sometimes Queenie needs to go for her walk and it’s easier for me to stop by and take her instead of Steve coming all the way from work.”

“Have you guys talked about living together? I mean, our lease is up at the end of the year.” 

Something uncomfortable wriggled in Evie’s chest and she felt the color drain from her face. 

“Ooh, there she is,” Clint teased, poking her cheek with the end of his pencil. “Our favorite overly committed commitment phobe. You haven’t thought about moving in with him, have you?” 

“No.” She smacked his pencil away and bent further over her newest Mythology homework. “What are you guys being for Halloween?” 

“Smooth,” Nat snorted, rolling her eyes. “I think I’m gonna be a sexy pirate again this year. It’s been too long since I wore my leather pants.” 

“Ooh, yes. I second that.” Clint’s eyes glazed over a little and he nodded jerkily. “Leather pants are always good. I ordered one of those blow up dinosaur costumes from Amazon, obviously.” 

“Of all the things you could have been-,” 

“I chose a t-rex costume that needs an air pump, yes.” 

Evie looked flatly at Nat, who looked somewhere between rolling her eyes out of her skull and vaguely ill at her boyfriend’s life choices. 

“What are you being? You and Steve doing some gross couple thing?” 

“You should go as Scarlet Witch and Vision,” Clint said, sipping at his coffee. 

“I wasn’t gonna go as anything,” Evie said, unlocking her phone as it buzzed on the table. “I have to work and I think Steve is doing something with his friends.” 

**Cute Steven:**

**Bucky made me give him your number so I’m gonna apologize in advance for anything and everything he sends you.**

Oh, God. 

**347-189-2053**

**How do you feel about nipple clamps?**

This was not going to end well. Not at all. 

**To Fucky Barnes:**

**I’m not opposed. Also hello? Normal people say hello to start a conversation.**

**_Downloading image from Fucky Barnes_ **

**Fucky Barnes:**

**Hi I’m in a sex shop and these ones would look good on your skin so I’m buying them. Steve isn’t being helpful.**

Evie gulped as the picture loaded, two delicate peace sign looking, rubber tipped clamps  with a thin chain connecting them. Perfect for someone to wrap their fingers around and tug. 

[ http://www.narcissenyc.com/butterfly-nipple-clamps/ ](http://www.narcissenyc.com/butterfly-nipple-clamps/)

“You okay, Eves? You look like you’re about to shit your pants.” 

“Yeah, I’m good.” She swallowed hard and set the phone back on the table, shaking her head a little to clear it. 

Nat looked vaguely suspicious but Clint distracted her by all but screaming that his costume had shipped and as the redhead rolled her eyes, Evie stretched a little and scanned over the library around them. She paused a little before shyly waving as Jack walked in and waved enthusiastically, dressed in jeans and a grey Kappa hoodie, a black backwards had that said ‘tell your dog I said hi’ stamped above the bill in a typewriter font. He clapped one of his friends on the shoulder and said something to them before walking over to Evie’s table, a bright smile lighting up his face. 

“I didn’t know you went to NYU,” he said, coming to stand by her chair and laying his hand on the back of it. “I just figured you lived at the bar.” 

“Gotta pay tuition somehow.” She shrugged one shoulder, trying to ignore the way she could feel Clint and Nat staring. “These are my roommates, Clint and Natasha. This is Jack. He works at the bar with me.” 

Jack waved dorkily and turned his smile up a few watts. 

“Taught her everything she knows,” he bragged sarcastically, leaning a bit more on her chair so his hip bumped near her head. Evie rolled her eyes and scooted fractionally away from him in her seat. 

“Yeah, right.” 

He lightly punched her shoulder and laughed. 

“You see we got scheduled together over Halloween?” he asked, folding his arms and standing up straight. “Whatcha dressing up as?” 

“I don’t usually dress up,” she said, scribbling a square into the corner of her notebook. “The regulars already make enough comments about my tits. Don’t need to give them another reason.” 

“Oh, come on, Evie. It’s Halloween. You can dress up without flashing your titties. And I’ll be there to protect you.” He winked and nudged her again. She smiled wryly and just shrugged. 

“Well fine, be that way,” he pouted. “I’ll catch you later, though, yeah?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

He grinned widely and all but bounded back over to his friends. 

“He seems... Nice,” Nat said slowly, looking like she was trying to swallow a cactus. 

“He’s just a work friend. Nothing to worry about.” 

“But he’s in-,” 

“I know, Clint.” 

“That doesn’t make you nervous?” 

“Of course it does. But I’m trying to be a good person and give him the benefit of the doubt.” 

“You know that’s how you ended up going on your first date with Brock, right?” 

Evie huffed and lifted her eyes to glare slightly at Nat.

“Yes. But considering I’m not going on a date with anyone besides Steve, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” 

Nat looked at her for another beat before sighing and nodding. 

“You’re right, Eves. Sorry.” 

Clint gasped and looked at her. 

“Did I just hear Natasha Romanoff apologize? Without being prompted?” 

Nat smacked his arm and blushed. 

“I never thought I’d see the day!” he cried dramatically, swinging his arms out in a broad gesture. 

And spilling his coffee directly onto Evie’s laptop. 

“Clint, you fuck!” she yelled, quickly turning the machine on it’s side and watching the brown liquid drool between the keys.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.” He scrambled for the napkins and they mopped up as much of the mess as possible. She left her laptop open and propped next to her, the keys and screen facing the table and, hopefully, draining. 

It didn’t work. 

She left it to dry for three days, even went as far as unscrewing the back and making sure it was dry before even thinking about turning it back on. But, when she tried to boot it up at Steve’s the next week, the screen typed out lines of computer coding before freezing, glitching bright blue, then red, then fading to black with a depressing whir. 

“Mother fucking fucker,” she snarled, slamming the lid closed and knocking the stupid machine away from her.

It was enough to make Steve look up from the paperwork he had spread across the entire other side of the table, practically buried in colored pencils and eraser shavings, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing at his beard and frowning at the piece of eraser he found there. He flicked it to the floor as Evie answered. 

“My laptop is fucked,” she whined, glaring at the thing. “Clint spilled coffee on it last week and now it’s fucked and I have homework I need to do.” 

Steve’s eyes softened and the line of his mouth twisted to a sympathetic shape. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said softly. “You can use mine, if you want. It’s back in the office right now but you can bring it out here.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He nodded and turned back to his sketches. 

And Evie should’ve known, knowing Steve and his need to spoil her nd provide everything all the time, that he’d show up at her apartment the next day with a brand new laptop cradled in his arms and a stupid grin on his face. 

“This is obsessive,” she said as he walked her through setting it up. “Steve, this is the nicest computer I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

“It’s the newest PC model,” he said, dragging his finger across the touch screen. “Tony knows a guy. This baby isn’t even on the market yet and you have one.” 

_ “Steve.”  _

He just grinned and kissed her cheek.

That night, she sucked his dick under his desk while he held a conference call with some of the big wigs in the comic book world, his tie and shirt perfectly straight and professional while his pants pooled around his ankles. 

“Be good,” he told her before the call, tapping two fingers against her cheek as she nuzzled at the warm space between his legs. “I mean it. You’re here to keep my cock nice and warm until I’m done working, got it? No playing or trying to make daddy come while he’s busy.” 

She nodded and flicked the tip of her tongue against the pad of his thumb as it traced her lower lip. 

“There’s my good girl,” he cooed, letting her suck happily on his index and middle fingers. She hummed around the digits, fluttering her eyelashes as she glanced up at him and he groaned a little. “You’re gonna be the death of me, babydoll.” 

He leaned back in his desk chair and unbuckled his belt, hesitating for half a second before wheeling the chair back and gesturing for Evie to stand. 

“This okay?” he asked softly, turning her around and wrapping the expensive leather around her wrists at the small of her back. 

“Yes, daddy,” she breathed, shivering a little as the cold metal nibbled at her skin. 

“Color?” Steve slid a big hand from her bound wrists to the spot between her shoulder blades, pushing forward just slightly so she had to lean her upper body onto his desk, her hips and ass sticking out. 

“Green, daddy.” She bit back a moan as he trailed his index finger along the damp crotch of her thong, rubbing hard enough to make the fabric cling to her skin but not enough to satisfy the ache of need starting to build between her thighs. He’d made her strip when they’d gotten to his place, ordering her to the guest bedroom where a new lingerie set waited. Her hands shook the whole time she got undressed and then redressed, if that’s what she was doing with the scraps of fabric, but she’d managed to do it without making herself freak out. 

There was something so incredibly hot about being in Steve’s office, bent over his work and computer in a lacy thong and nearly cupless bra, her nipples hard through the lace and bumping against his keyboard. 

He snapped the poor excuse for a pair of panties against her ass and hummed a little. 

“I have a surprise for you.” 

“Another one?” 

“Mhmm. I saw it when I was getting your pretty little outfit and couldn’t help myself.” He rummaged through one of his desk drawers, placing a hot kiss at the small of her back before straightening up, spreading her legs wider so he could fit his knees between them. 

Evie got all of half a second and a faint buzzing noise before he was easing the toy into her, a rubbery g-spot stimulator with a little external nub that sat directly  _ below  _ her clit, too far to actually touch it but close enough that the vibrations made her tingle. 

“Oh- oh God.” 

“Just me, honey,” Steve cooed, wiggling the toy just a little to make her squirm. She whined and rocked up on her toes, pressing her cheek to the cool wood of his desk for some relief.

“C’mon, honey, up. On your knees, facing me,” he said softly, smiling warmly as she did as he asked, legs shaking as the new position rocked the toy inside her, peeking up at him through her lashes. “You’re so sweet.” Unbuttoning his pants, he lifted his hips out of his desk chair just enough to shuck them and his boxers to his ankles, leaving his cock half hard and resting against his thigh. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathed, carding a shaking hand through her hair as she scooted forward and wrapped her lips around the head. “You gonna behave while I make my call?” 

She nodded as best she could with her mouth semi-full, blinking away the hot burn of tears clinging joyously to her eyelashes, already so turned on and overwhelmed. 

“Good.” Steve wheeled his desk chair forward a little so she was seated further under his desk and his lap was hidden under the oak. He tapped away on his keyboard, calm as could be, while the toy teased relentlessly against Evie’s clit; it was taking every ounce of her self control to keep her mouth still, to keep her tongue from rubbing against the sensitive spot right below the head of Steve’s cock, the one that made him whine and grunt appreciatively. She heard the garbled noises of his conference call, one of Steve’s hands dropping down to hold the back of her head the longer it went on. She breathed steadily through her nose, adjusting a little so her nose brushed against the smooth skin of his pelvis, the head of his cock already bumping against the back of her throat even though he was barely half hard.

Wiggling around did nothing to soothe the ache the toy was spreading through her and she whined, quietly, and swallowed hard around Steve’s cock; his hand tightened warningly in her hair as his cock twitched a little between her lips. 

“You alright, Rogers?”

“Yup,” he grunted, shifting a little in his seat and yanking Evie’s head back just a little. Her eyes rolled back into her head at the tingle of pain. “Uh, what were you saying about the press release?” 

“The fans want to hear from  _ you,  _ Steve. Not from Tony. You and Barnes are the ones coming out with all the material and nobody ever gets to talk to either of you about it.” 

“I’m not a big fan of crowds.” 

“But think of the sales we could make if you and Barnes went to a Con- any Con. We could do signed merch, signed comics, a Q&A. They’d lose their- are you sure you’re okay?”

“Peachy,” Steve ground out through his teeth, kicking faintly at Evie’s hip as she scraped her teeth against his circumcision scar. She hollowed her cheeks and bobbed on his cock shallowly, fighting the urge to smirk. As much as she loved being good and keeping Steve’s rules, breaking them and getting punished was almost better. 

“Look, email me the information for whatever Con you want Bucky and I at and I’ll run it past him. I’m just telling you now that sending two war vets into a crowded venue with people screaming for their attention with fake weapons might not be the best, ah, idea.” Steve yanked at her hair again, barely covering his moan with a couch as she swirled her tongue around the head, humming happily as he thickened in her mouth. 

“But you’ll consider it?” 

“I’ll think about it. That’s not a yes.” 

“That’s great! We have so much of the table for these next couple of months-,” 

“Tell me about it in an email,” Steve wheezed, jerking his hips forward so his cock pushed deeper into Evie’s throat. “I have to go. Thanks for the meeting, guys.” 

And he slapped his laptop shut, rolling back his chair furiously and glaring down at Evie with blown pupils. 

“You think that’s funny?” he hissed, yanking her up and spinning her around so her face all but smacked back onto his desk. “Making me look like an idiot in front of my team?” 

“Just wanted your attention, daddy” she whined, wiggling her ass back at him. He grabbed either side of the delicate panties and ripped them down the middle, dropping to his knees and yanking the toy out so he could replace it with his tongue. 

“Uh huh,” he growled, biting harshly at her ass cheek hard enough to leave dark purple indents. “What, me spending all damn day with you not enough for your greedy pussy?” 

She couldn’t do anything but moan as he buried his face back between her legs, lapping hungrily at her clit and leaving beard burn on the inside of her thighs. 

“So fucking greedy,” he growled, standing up and spreading her asscheeks. Jerking his pants and boxers down to his thighs, he yanked her back so her hips hung off the edge of the desk and pushed inside her in one long, neverending stroke. 

“Fuuuck” she groaned, dropping her forehead onto the desk and forcing her body to relax as she spasmed around him. 

“Nuh uh,” he growled, fisting a hand into her hair and pulling her head back so her back arched, tits all but spilling out of the excuse for a bra. His other hand latched onto her shoulder, pulling her backwards onto his cock. “You interrupt my meeting so you can get fucked, you at least keep your goddamn head up.” 

He kept his grip on her tight as he started fucking in and out of her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth hard enough that it turned white. 

“Please,” she whined, pulling helplessly at the belt around her wrists. It didn’t budge. She didn’t even know what she was asking for, what she needed, but, like usual, Steve just understood. 

“What?” he hissed, speeding up the roll of his hips so they smacked against her ass brutally, her cheeks jiggling. “You want me to fuck you harder? Fuck you so you can’t talk?” 

She nodded the little bit his grip would let her, moaning helplessly as she slid back and forth and back and forth across his desk, papers and folders tumbling to the ground around them. It was dirty and raw and everything Evie needed to clear the noise building in her head, to banish the headaches that’d been pounding behind her eyes as the semester started to speed up and due dates loomed closer. 

“D-daddy,” she panted, jerked forward by the slam of his hips against hers. “Harder, please. Please, I need it. Need more.” 

Steve groaned, a low noise deep in his chest, and released the fist he had in her hair, choosing instead to wrap a thick forearm around her throat, pressing his lips close to her ear and making her arch backwards to avoid getting fully choked. 

“This what you wanted, huh?” he murmured without missing a beat. “Did my little girl just need her daddy’s attention?” 

Hot tears burned at the corners of her eyes, the humiliation and desperation and pure need rising in her throat until she was choking out weak sobs, her body to overwhelmed to fight it anymore. To fight against fully submitting to him. 

“That’s it,” he cooed, catching her earlobe between his teeth and tugging just slightly. “Let it out, sugar, there we go.” 

Evie wheezed against her arm, her eyes rolling back just a little as he drilled her into the desk until her hips were sore from smashing into the edge of it so many times. But it didn’t feel like pain. Each bruising thump spread another wave of warmth across her body, loosening the muscles in her chest, relaxing her for the first time in weeks. Her cries and moans rose suddenly in pitch before dropping to quiet murmurs, her head turning lazily side to side on Steve’s arm as she slipped further under. 

“You’re so good,” Steve praised, dropping his arm to let her lay flat against the desk. “So fucking good, honey.” He picked up the pace, his breathing hard and fast; Evie could distantly tell he was sweating and cursing, but everything felt like it was coming through a fog, like someone had shoved cotton candy in her ears. Steve bent down to press warm kisses along the back of her shoulders, his back arched so he could keep thrusting, and Evie just moaned, low and long, at the feel of his teeth sinking into the skin there. 

The burst of pain twisted somewhere in her brain into a spark of pleasure, raising goosebumps on her skin and making her clench hard around Steve’s length. He grunted and bit harder, scooching her further up the desk as his hips stuttered. 

“I’m gonnna come,” he panted, releasing her shoulder and focusing on chasing his orgasm. “Fuck, baby, I’m fucking gonna come.” 

Evie just hummed and turned her head to the side, licking her lower lip slowly and hoping Steve got the message. 

He did, uttering a few rushed “Oh fuck”s and pulling out; he yanked her to her knees by her hair, the sharp string making more tears dribble down her cheeks, before wrapping his other hand around his dick and jerking it hard and fast. 

“Fuck, look at you. Fucking gorgeous, honey.” 

Blinking lazily up at him, Evie leaned forward and pressed a closed lipped kiss to the bright red head of his cock before sticking her tongue out for him- an offering. His hand striped once, twice, down his cock before he was coming with a gasp, painting her lips and cheeks with streaks of come, his body taunt and trembling. 

“Holy mother of Jesus Christ.” His clean hand let go of her hair and touched one of the few clean spots on her cheeks. “Fucking- goddamn, Evie.” 

Without a hand in her hair, she leaned forward and licked gently at the still leaking head of his cock, lifting her eyelids so she could see him watching as she tongued at his slit. He hissed a little, obviously still sensitive, and gave her his messy fingers to suck on instead. 

“Want me to clean you up, honey?” 

She nodded and moaned around the three fingers he’d stuffed in her mouth. He pulled said fingers out with a quiet  _ pop,  _ scooping up some of his come from her cheek before feeding it to her; he moved methodically over her face, making sure she sucked every drop from his fingers before offering her more until she was as jizz-free as she was going to get without a towel. 

“Come here, honey, let daddy undo that belt, huh? You’ve been so good today.” Steve dropped to his knees and let Evie drop her head onto his shoulder while he unbuckled the belt and gently brought her arms forward, strong hands massaging the blood back into her veins. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” 

“Green,” she mumbled sleepily, biting gently at the bold line of his collarbone. He chuckled and ran a hand soothingly over her mess of hair. 

“Do you wanna play more, or do you want to snuggle and nap?” 

“Nap. You fuck so good, daddy. Makes me sleepy.” 

“That might just be the subspace talking, but I’ll take it.” Steve kissed her head and swept her up into his arms, her legs dangling loosely on either side of his hips, arms hanging off his shoulders. It was an awkward shuffle to the bedroom, Steve’s pants still trapped tight around his thick thighs, but he stripped down after gingerly setting Evie in the middle of the bed. 

“I love you so much,” he murmured, bringing the blankets over them both and huffing out a laugh when both dogs trotted into the bedroom and scrambled onto the bed. Evie giggled sleepily and buried her face in Steve’s chest, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck. 

“Love you the most,” she grumbled, sliding her legs between his and pressing her cold feet against his calves. He hissed a little, rolling his eyes at her content smirk, and kissed her nose before burrowing deeper into the blankets and passing out alongside her. 

 

…………..

“So we’re all set on the plan for tonight?” 

“I think so.” Evie turned in the mirror to make sure the back of her hair was properly curled and all her bobbypins were in place before reaching for her makeup, glancing down at her phone for the time. Sweet, she had plenty of time till she needed to leave for work. “I’m meeting you at Tony’s party after I get off work and Bucky picks me up.” 

“And you’ll let me know when Buck gets you?” Steve asked, his voice slightly fuzzy over speaker phone. 

“Yes, Steve, I will. I promise.” She carefully applied her eyeliner before reaching for her eyelash curler, tilting her head from side to side to make sure each eye was even. 

“You gonna tell me what you’re going as?” 

“Nope,” she said, smirking even though he couldn’t see her. “I told you. It’s a surprise.” 

“You’re a tease.” 

“And you’re impatient. So are we leaving Tony’s to go to your place then?” Her stomach swooped at the question, knowing  _ we  _ meant her and Steve  _ and Bucky.  _

“Ahh, about that.” Steve coughed nervously and Evie raised a suspicious eyebrow he couldn’t see. “It’s not bad, I promise. Buck just has more room at his place and he has all of the, uh, toys and stuff, so we thought maybe we could go there instead of trying to haul everything to the penthouse.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fine. So we go from Tony’s to Bucky’s?” 

“Mhmm. That work for you, honey?” 

“Yeah, that’s totally fine.” She leaned over the counter and focused on evenly lining her bright red lipstick across her lips, making sure there were no stray smudges and she wasn’t in danger of getting it on her teeth. “Hey, I gotta go put on the rest of my costume before I go to work. Can I text you later?” 

“Of course, baby. I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

Her phone beeped twice as she ended the call. She cracked her bedroom door open, a curious Diana poking her fluffy head out into the hallway, and called for Nat. 

“Will you help me decide if I need to wear a bra with this top or not?” 

“No bra!” Nat cried excitedly, rounding the corner in leather pants, a fluffy white off the shoulder shirt, and a black leather corset thingy that wrapped around her waist and tied like a shoelace in the front. “I’m kidding. Let me see it without…”

 

When Evie clocked into work that night, bundled in her coat and praying to every deity imaginable that she wouldn’t get sexually harassed, she was less than thankful she had gone without the bra. 

“About time you showed up,” Jack teased from behind the bar, clad in cuffed jeans and a too small black t-shirt with a pack of cigarettes jutting out of his back pocket. He’d slicked his dark hair back and completed the whole look with a comb next to his pack of smokes. He slid the woman on the other side of the bar their signature Halloween drink, the Witches Brew- a mix of black vodka, raspberry liqueur, a splash of Absinthe, and cherry juice. “I thought you weren’t dressing up.” 

“My boyfriend changed my mind,” she said, sliding her jacket off and definitely not missing the shameless way Jack’s eyes raked up and down her body. He let out a long whistle and started slow clapping; Evie punched him in the stomach and marched to the other side of the bar. 

“Never thought I’d see you in [leather](https://www.google.com/search?q=pin+up+girl+costume&hl=en&authuser=0&tbm=isch&tbs=rimg:CXojnCrNqoKyIjgzWdZEYETdTkunsdZhwOrylHpnfaAZNSh8on3_11NIBi5AYCXqWi8LJ7JwJECA8is-r7G41oLHQJyoSCTNZ1kRgRN1OEc1ymyLcxMVPKhIJS6ex1mHA6vIRsF9DK_1ZcBbkqEgmUemd9oBk1KBHeXg5M-BHH1SoSCXyiff_1U0gGLEf8P0Fos986tKhIJkBgJepaLwskRicJL6JvKCCEqEgnsnAkQIDyKzxF3xKm3xYdF1SoSCavsbjWgsdAnEYCuK1znLcg-&tbo=u&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwim3IaCttDeAhVI6IMKHT5rDrIQ9C96BAgBEBs&biw=1366&bih=657&dpr=1#imgrc=eiOcKs2qgrKoEM:), Montgomery.” 

“First and last time.” 

“Aww. Don’t be like that, Eves.” 

She just rolled her eyes and started making drinks. Thankfully, the bar was fairly busy and her shift managed to fly by with minimal comments about her outfit, both from patrons and Jack alike. 

“Hey, you wanna ring me up a Rum and Coke and some cheese fries?” he asked, coming out from the back with a leather jacket hanging loosely off his shoulders. He leaned his arms on the bar and chewed at the toothpick dangling out of his mouth. 

“You want the small or large fry?” she asked distractedly, focusing on cashing out someone’s card as they talked. 

“Oh, you know me, baby. Go big or go home.” 

“You’re gross.” 

“You like it.” 

“Like isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” She turned and handed the guy his card back, thanking him for visiting the bar and fluffing out some comment about how she hoped him and his date would come back. She rang up Jack’s order, added the employee discount, and swiped his card while he just stared at her. 

“Got a problem, Jack?” 

“Not at all.” He swiped his tongue across his lower lip and tilted his head thoughtfully. “You got any fun plans after work?” 

“I’m meeting my boyfriend for a party with his friends,” Evie said, busying herself with wiping down the bar. 

“C’mon, Evie.” 

She shrugged one shoulder. 

“You’d honestly rather go to some lame ass party with people you barely know than come to a rager with your BFF Jack?” 

She leveled him with a flat look and he grinned toothily. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, nodding at her and accepting his to-go bag as one of the cooks walked it out. “There’s a party at my place. You should be there.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“So mysterious, Montgomery,” he teased, moving towards the door. “I’ll text you the address.” 

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her customers. As the night went on, the crowd thinned and fattened back up, crowds coming and going as they passed through on their bar crawls. It seemed like years before she finally got a chance to relax, to fan herself a little against the heat of the bar lights and pour herself an ice water. She scanned the crowd, about six or seven people in various costumes spread out across the room, some dancing to the Halloween music pumping from the speakers, others crowded together on stools at the bar itself. The door swept open and a single man walked through, head hung low and barely visible in the dim lighting. Evie sighed a little and set her water aside. 

“What can I getcha?” she asked, already bringing a glass up from under the counter. The man looked up from under long lashes to smirk at her and the glass fumbled onto the bar top, clambering loudly as she scrambled to catch. 

“Nice to see you, too, butterfingers,” Bucky all but purred, scooping up the glass and setting it up right. He, [fuck](https://www.google.com/search?biw=1366&bih=657&tbm=isch&sa=1&ei=43DzW9idOaqYjwS4kJPYDg&q=sebastian+stan+long+hair+premier+with+v+neck&oq=sebastian+stan+long+hair+premier+with+v+neck&gs_l=img.3...145106.163004..163298...2.0..0.226.5176.23j20j2......1....1..gws-wiz-img.......0j35i39j0i30j0i67j0i24j0i8i30.kwt2r68UuXQ#imgrc=qu8PBfNfN4hgPM:), he’d trimmed his hair since the last time she saw him and he’d styled it so his bangs hung dangerously close to his sharp cheekbones, making them stand out even more. She detected the hint of contouring on his skin, the shadows of his cheeks dark and bringing every delicate line of his face to point at the perfect cupids bow of his lips. His eyelashes looked exceptionally dark, even in the low lights, long enough they kissed him cheeks every time he blinked. He looked dark and beautiful, still masculine and big enough to make the bar top groan as he leaned the majority of his bulk onto it, clad in all black- slacks, an open suit jacket, and a tight fitting cotton shirt. Evie was sure she’d be able to see the faint, shifting lines of his abs under it once he stood up. 

“Wh- what are you supposed to be? Steve said you were dressing up.” 

He grinned, more of a bearing of his teeth than an actual smile, revealing two sharper than normal points to his canines. 

“O-oh.” 

“Special ordered them online,” he said casually, flicking his thumb behind one of them. It didn’t budge. “They’ve got a special resin in them to make them stay.” He turned those blindingly blue eyes on her, brighter now that his eyelashes were darkened, and she forgot how to breathe. “So I hope you like getting bit, sugar.” 

“I’m- not opposed to it.” 

He nodded and smirked. 

“I like your costume,” he said, leaning a bit more on the bar to take in her high-waisted leather booty shorts, the polka dotted Daisy Duke top, the black strappy heels she’d paired it with. “I thought you  _ weren’t  _ dressing up?” 

“Steve was basically begging and my roommate threatened to sell my underwear on the Internet again, so I had to.” 

“Again?” 

“Long story.” 

He snorted and shook his head. 

“You’re gonna shit yourself when you see Steve,” he said, lazily shelling a few peanuts from the bowl in front of him. 

“Good or bad shit myself?” 

“Good.” He grinned, fangs glinting. “Might have to duck out of Tony’s early.” 

She couldn’t help the way her stomach clenched. She was barely surviving Bucky looking as good as he did. Let alone Steve looking shit worthy. And the two of them together..

“Your replacement’s here.” Pierce’s gruff voice broke through the images of what Steve could possibly have dressed up as, making Evie jump a little. “Go ahead and clock out and I’ll see you next week.” 

Evie practically ran to the time clock and snagged her jacket off the hook, bounding back to Bucky’s side in record time. He just grinned and shrugged his coat back on. 

 

“Welcome, Mr. Barnes, Ms. Montgomery, to Stark tower.” 

Evie’s jaw dropped as Bucky led her inside, handing a man in a white dress shirt their coats and ushering her forward. 

“Is this his house?” she whispered, leaning close to him as they weaved their way through the throng of people clogging the lobby. 

“Technically. Tony bought the whole building a while back, renovated different floors for his work, for parties, basically for whatever he wanted. Slapped his name on the front and everything.” 

“I thought he just did PR,” she said weakly as they headed towards a series of elevators. Bucky snorted. 

“That’s what he does for Shield,” he said, sliding his hand around her arm and pulling her close as the elevator filled around them. There were so many people, all in bright, expensive looking costumes. Every woman seemed to glitter from head to toe, no matter where their costume ended. 

“So what does he do outside of Shield that lets him live like this?” 

“Tony’s kind of a technological genius,” Bucky said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the chatter of the elevator. “He creates computer programs and is working on ground breaking a new artificial intelligence system.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

The elevator lurched slightly to a stop, the doors pinging pleasantly as they slid open to a packed floor. Evie’s mouth fell fully open.

Black and orange tapestries draped across the ceiling, glimmering with purple fairy lights that twinkled and winked down at them. The room was dark, the air heavy with music and laughter as bodies grinded and wove around each other. Waiters in white dress shirts squeezed through the crowds with platters on their hands, offering drinks or bite size snacks that looked fancier than anything Evie had ever put in her mouth before. A full service bar, complete with three bartenders, sat to their left, the dance floor stretching out the length of the room in front of it. Past the bar and dance floor, three small stairs led to a lounge area, decked out with warm, low lighting and plush leather couches and stools. 

That’s where Bucky led her, his fingers tight between hers to make sure she didn’t get lost as they pushed through the throngs of people. 

Evie looked around in awe as Bucky searched the crowd. 

“This is insane,” she said, watching a series of acrobats tumble gracefully from the tapestries, wearing only black sequined bras and highwaisted bottoms. 

“You should see his New Year’s party,” Bucky said distractedly. “Where the hell is- ah.” He cupped both hands around his mouth, standing on his tiptoes to see past the crowd.  _ “Steve!”  _

And God, Jesus and Lord of all that is holy- the sea of people fucking parted and Steve walked through, his shoulders absurdly wide, his hips impossibly narrow, a wide ass grin on his face. Evie stumbled backwards to the nearest cough, unable to take her eyes off him. 

“Hey, honey,” he said warmly, stooping to kiss Evie’s cheek. She couldn’t do anything but stare, vaguely aware of Bucky openly laughing at her. 

“You _shaved_ ,” she murmured, voice barely audible over the roar of the party. 

He ran a wide hand across his clean shaven jaw, looking just the slightest bit sheepish. He looked years younger but older somehow?? She’d never been able to fully appreciate the sharp line of his jaw, the angles on his cheeks and the beautiful veins and tendons leading down into his neck. His hair was the same, smooth and long and silkily pushed back; she ran her fingers delicately over the baby soft strands, pushing back that little bit in the front to muss it slightly. 

And he was wearing the [stealth suit](https://www.google.com/search?q=steve+rogers+stealth+suit+endgame&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiZ47vtwajfAhWn44MKHWIfAwEQ_AUIDigB&biw=1366&bih=608#imgrc=gG6szjTZ2rHDyM:) _ \-  _ the form fitting navy and white superhero suit from his second set of Captain America comics, complete with a BDSM-esque harness tightened behind his shoulders and hugging his collarbones in brown leather. The material stretched tight over the huge width of his shoulders and tapered down to his slim waist, the padding thoughtfully placed to emphasize the sheer amount of bulk he was carrying on his frame. 

“Do you like it?” 

“You’re a baby,” she said softly, tapping her finger tips against his smooth cheek. He turned into her touch instinctively, lips kissing her palm. “But you’re so fucking hot.” 

His laugh was hot against her hand, rumbling happily against her skin. 

“I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it,” he murmured over the music. “I haven’t been clean shaven since college.” 

“The glory days,” Bucky said, coming forward to clap Steve on the shoulder. “I need a drink. You want anything?” His metal fingers danced around the bare skin of Evie’s waist, cool against her heated skin and making her shiver. 

“Something sweet for her,” Steve answered for her, eyes boring heatedly into hers. “Mind getting me an old fashioned?” 

Bucky gave a half-assed salute and moved towards the bar. 

“Lemme look at you,” Steve said, taking Evie’s hand in his, the leather of his combat gloves creaking just a little, and spinning her around delicately. She flushed under his gaze, knowing her ass was on the verge of being out, her tits full and almost on display in her itty bitty shirt. “You’re stunning.” 

“And you’re just saying that because I’m basically naked,” she teased, flicking one of the buttery straps of his harness. He shrugged and she swatted his shoulder as Bucky walked back to them, drinks balanced carefully between his hands. He set them on the small table in front of them and rolled his shoulders under his suit jacket, the spinning lights casting shadows across his face, accentuating the jut of his cheekbones and making him look more dangerous and dark; the very tips of the white fangs bumped against his lower lip and Evie’s mouth watered. She wondered what it’d feel like to kiss him with those in. 

“Care to dance, sugar?” he asked, holding a hand out. His eyes flickered to Steve quickly, fast enough she almost didn’t catch it, before focusing back on her. She slid her fingers through his, pecking a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek, and let Bucky drag her out into the middle of the dance floor, where a fairly filthy grind pit had steadily been growing. 

“I don’t really dance,” she admitted nervously, heels clicking against the marble floors.  “I haven’t been on a dance floor since my senior year of highschool… and we were in a Conga line.” 

“Just relax,” he purred, turning her around and pressing her ass back against his crotch. Both his hands slid to her hips, fingers curling forward towards her stomach, and he tugged her back so she was pressed fully against his chest. “Lemme lead you.” 

His used his grip on her waist to help her rotate her hips in slow circles, rubbing her ass in smooth figure eights back and forth across his crotch, their bodies rocking with the heavy drum of the base shaking the floor. 

“That’s it.” Bucky buried his face in her neck, mouthing at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. Goosebumps broke out over her skin and she shivered despite starting to sweat. She reached back to loop an arm around his neck, dropping down just a little to grind all the way back up, his groan echoing in her ears. Tangling her fingers into the soft hair at the base of his neck, Evie pushed back against the bite of his zipper, biting her lower lip and closing her eyes, letting him direct her movement. 

It seemed like no time passed at all before the song was changing, something spooky and Halloween themed and exceptionally more difficult to dance to. Bucky spun her around with a graceful twirl and went as far as pressing a warm kiss to her knuckles, letting his canines clip just slightly against her skin. She couldn’t help shivering. 

“That was uncalled for,” Steve scolded after they’d weaved their way through the crowd to where he was sitting, a beer resting against his knee. Evie panicked, thinking he was upset with her for grinding against his best friend, before Bucky nudged her and tilted his head in the direction of Steve’s groin. Where he was sporting an erection into the navy fabric of his suit. Her face bloomed with color. 

“Looks like we’re gonna have to go take care of that,” Bucky murmured, sliding his metal fingers through Evie’s and motioning for Steve to stand. He led them past the doting waiters and the crowds, through some obscure door behind the bar Evie wasn’t entirely sure they were allowed through, and into a dimly lit hall. 

“This, ah, leads to the elevators that go upstairs,” Steve said, grunting a little as Bucky laid a hand flat against his chest and pushed him back against the wall. 

“The suit has a zipper in the front,” he told her, leaning forwards to nuzzle at the hollow of Steve’s throat. Evie blinked at him for a minute, confused and aroused at the sight of the two of them moving together, before finally putting the pieces together and clumsily dropping to her knees. 

“Holy fuck,” Steve whispered, one gloved hand gently framing the side of her face, the other holding Bucky to his neck. “Shit, fuck, yes.” 

She hummed and nuzzled against the warm fabric covering his thigh, biting just a little at the thick fabric while wedging the zipper open with both hands. Steve was already hard- shocker- and he moaned when she reached into his black boxers and pulled his dick out. 

“Fuck.” His voice was nothing more than a breath, hips jerking as Evie swirled her tongue around the silky head, blinking up at him innocently. Bucky reached down, trailing his fingers down the bumps and ridges of Steve’s suit until his fingers were buried in the hair at the back of Evie’s head. The plates in his fingers were thin enough not to get caught in her hair and he gripped hand, urging her forward until Steve’s cock was nudging against the back of her throat. 

“Don’t you fucking thrust, Stevie,” he growled, kissing up Steve’s jaw and letting his hand up just long enough so Evie could catch a wet gasp of air, before helping her back down. “Let me and your pretty girl work you over, huh?” 

Steve whined and wriggled in their grasp, huffing out heavy breath through his open mouth and moaning loud enough that Bucky clapped his free hand over his mouth. Evie shivered on her knees. Steve was hardly like this, so free and open, uninhibited. He kept such tight control of himself when they were playing, in charge and in command without a single question about his authority, his place. He played like his pleasure was secondary, like any and everything he felt came after Evie did. But seeing him like this was better than any orgasm he’d given her (and he’d given her a lot of  _ faaaantastic  _ orgasms). 

Hollowing her cheeks, she hummed around the cock filling her mouth and pushed forward until her lips were pressed on the soft fabric of Steve’s boxers, his cock shoved all the way her throat until her airway was entirely blocked. Bucky grumbled in pleasure and held her down, both him and Steve looking down at her appreciatively. Her eyes were watering, lips stretched out and her chest twitching with the need for another breath that Bucky was in control of.

Evie’s throat spasmed and she choked a little, tapping two fingers against Bucky’s metal wrist so he’d let her up for air. He finally let her go and she pulled off, gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting her lips to Steve’s cock. 

“Fuck, that’s pretty,” Bucky cooed while Evie and Steve both gasped for air. “Wanna go again, sugar?” 

“Mhmm.” She nodded hurriedly and he fitsted his hand in her hair, forcing her to look up at him. 

“Tap my wrist when it’s too much.” He arched a dark eyebrow and just waited for when she nodded again. And then he took back over, holding her head down while Steve gave aborted little thrusts into the back of her throat; Bucky always pulled her off right at the brink of it being too much, right as her vision was started to get fuzzy and her body started to panic. But he had her. And Steve had her. They weren’t going to let her get too far. 

“You close, Stevie?” Bucky cooed, burying his face in Steve’s neck and biting gently at the thick tendon there.

“Mhmm.” Steve was sweating, little droplets darkening his hairline and escaping down his temple. He moaned and knocked his head back against the wall, chest heaving, and clutched desperately at Bucky’s shoulders. “M so fuckin’ close.” 

“Go ahead, honey,” Bucky mumbled, stroking a metal thumb across Evie’s hair. “Look how good your girl is being for you. Let her swallow you down, hmm?”

And that did it, Steve’s back bowing off the wall as he jerked in Bucky’s arms, a high whine rising in his throat until Bucky smacked their mouths together. He flooded Evie’s mouth and shook through his entire orgasm, gasping for air and looking down at his girl; she just blinked up at him innocently and sat back to press soft kisses on the underside of the head. 

“Shit,” he whispered, goosebumps rising on his stomach as his abs clenched. Bucky smoothed some of Steve’s damp hair away from his forehead before leaning down to held Evie stand, both her knees cracking. 

“You okay?” Steve wheezed, reaching for her with shaky hands. Evie just smiled and leaned in for a kiss, parting her lips to let him deepen it and lick the taste of himself from her mouth. 

“Let’s get you two home,” Bucky said, eyes dark and blatantly adjusting the bulge in the front of his jeans. He slipped his fingers through Steve’s and wrapped an arm around Evie’s waist, tugging them both close and leading the march out to his car. 


	15. Company is Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry  
> Also I'm awful at updating. Hopefully the next chapter will be out faster than this one.

_ This has to be heaven. I died in Bucky Barnes’ bed and this is the afterlife.  _

“You okay, babydoll?” Steve’s voice, warm and just a little bit concerned, drifted through Evie’s pink tinted fog, enough for her to turn her face out of the mound of pillows that smelled like woodsy pine. 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s your color?” Steve ran a big hand through her sweaty hair, pushing it off her forehead, and tucked his thumb against the crease of her lips. She licked the pad of his finger and hummed at the taste of salt and cherry flavored lube. 

“I’m green, daddy,” she slurred, arching her back as both of Bucky’s hands slid from her ass up her spine and back down. His prosthetic felt cool against her skin and she whined at the feeling. 

“What a treat, huh, Stevie?” he murmured, voice soft as he settled behind her, both his knees up on the bed. He grabbed a handful of her ass and squeezed until the skin turned red. “What’d we do to deserve this sweet little girl all wore out in my bed?” 

“Not wore out,” she grumbled and both the boys laughed. 

“Of course you’re not, sugar,” Bucky cooed. He smacked her ass, once, before standing back up. “We’re just getting started. Why don’t you show me how pretty you look when you suck your daddy’s cock while I get the next thing ready, hmm?”

She couldn’t nod fast enough. Steve pressed a hot kiss to her back before sliding in front of her, straddling his legs on either side of her bound arms; that had been the first thing Bucky had done, wrapped her wrists in buttery soft leather cuffs with cold silver rings with a rope looped through them that drew her arms out and up. He’d connected the rope tying her wrists together to a spinning metal piece that hung off a loop on the headboard, so they could flip her on her back, onto her stomach, and any angle in between without tangling the rope. 

And now Steve kneeled in front of her, his big, muscular thighs framing her arms, cock hard and drooling in front of her face. Bucky was moving behind her, lifting her hips just a little so her ass was on full display, her clamped nipples dragging against the soft sheets in the best kind of painful way. 

“Come on, honey,” Steve said, his voice all soft and rumbly in the quiet of the room. “Show Buck how good you can be.” He scooted forward and pushed the leaking head of his cock past her lips, his head falling back with a groan.

“She relaxed, Stevie?” Bucky asked as Steve started to fuck into her mouth with little thrusts of his hips. He grunted and Evie could tell Bucky was grinning evilly, even without being able to see him. 

Running both hands over her ass, he hummed a little, watching her choke and drool on Steve’s cock; he tapped the palms of his hands just lightly on her ass, leaning down to bite one of her cheeks as it jiggled underneath him. Somewhere through the cotton candy fog and the lack of oxygen Steve’s dick was providing, an itty bitty part of Evie’s brain registered what he was doing, knew he was teasing and rubbing the skin to bring all the blood to the surface of her ass to make her twice as sensitive when he- 

_ Smack _

She choked, hard, on Steve’s cock, her entire body jolting forward as Bucky wound up for another hit. She couldn’t tell if it was his hand, his fist, a fucking semi truck, but it  _ hurt so good,  _ the sharp pain fading into a tingly warm wave that swept her under. Steve immediately pulled back, panic coloring his face, but Evie just followed him as far forward as she could, blinking up at him three times and resting the head of his cock on the very tip of her tongue. Three times meant green. Once was red, and twice was yellow. He groaned a little, low in the back of his throat, and fed her his cock until he was nudging the back of her throat and her eyes were watering. 

Bucky rubbed his metal hand against the spot he hit her, pushing the tips of his fingers into the little sprinkling of red dots coloring her ass. 

“Fuck, sugar, you’re gonna bruise so pretty,” he growled, stepping back to smack the paddle- it had to be a paddle, nothing else would be so hard, so fucking unyeilding- against her again. “Like a fuckin’-,”  _ swapt  _ “Peach.” 

She moaned around Steve’s cock and he grabbed a fistful of her hair, biting into his lower lip and moving her up and down his dick. Up and down and up and down and up again until he popped out of her mouth, leaving her open mouthed and drooling, blinking up at him with glossy eyes. 

“You floating, babydoll?” he asked, smearing the head of his cock around and around her lips, tapping it quickly against her outstretched tongue. When she didn’t answer, he grabbed hold of her chin and forced her head up, the cuffs around her wrists groaning at the stretch. 

“Y-yes, daddy,” she wheezed, body jolting forward at another one of Bucky’s hits. Tears flooded her eyes and rolled down her cheeks; she rocked backward towards Bucky, towards the heat and power he was releasing on her, desperate for more. “Please!” 

“Please what?” Bucky asked before Steve could answer, bringing the paddle down on her left cheek hard enough she started crying in earnest. She was on fire, sweating and rocking and crying between the two of them, Bucky’s hands so mean on her skin while Steve forced himself to go easy on her, the good cop in their little threesome. “You want something, you ask.” 

“M-more,” she whined, pushing forward to rest her head against Steve’s stomach. He ran both hands over her head, blowjob forgotten, smoothing her hair down; she shook in his arms and Bucky finally paused his assault on her ass. “Need- something.” 

“Do you need Bucky to stop?” Steve asked, glancing back at his friend. Evie shook her head rapidly and all but wept at the thought of them stopping any of it. “Okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“You need something to focus on while Stevie and I use you?” Bucky asked, rubbing a hand over her reddened ass. She couldn’t nod fast enough. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Give me just a second, sugar, I got what you need.” 

His hands left her entirely, making her shake harder until Steve let her go back to swallowing his cock, before she heard a faint whirring sound and Bucky was slowly pushing something inside her. 

“Oooh, god,” she cried, dropping her head and rolling her shoulders towards her ears. Steve propped her back up and pushed his dick back between her lips, letting her suck at the head while Bucky got the toy settled inside her and the outer little nub nestled against her clit. God, it was the best kind of awful, the whole thing buzzing hard and making her twitch and shake, a high keening whine carrying out of her mouth. 

“There we go,” Bucky said, smug, taking his spot back behind her and pulling his arm back, the paddle handle clenched tight in his fist. 

_ Whap _

Evie cried out with a fresh wave of tears, opening her mouth obediently so Steve could feed her his cock. 

_ Whap whap _

One hit to each cheek, bright spots of pain fizzling out to something hot and long, like sparks jetting over bright orange coals. She gagged on Steve’s dick and he moaned, long and low. 

“Fuck, honey, so fucking good,” he groaned, knotting his hands into her hair and keeping her pressed deep on his cock. “Just like that. Mmm, gonna make me come.” 

“You close, Stevie?” 

_ Whap _

Evie swore she could faintly hear the wooden paddle whistling as Bucky ripped it through the air. She clenched tight around the toy, moaning thickly into the blowjob, her pussy spasming against the vibrations.

“Fuck yeah, Buck.” 

“Two more hits and you pull out. Got it?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Just two more, sugar,” Bucky cooed, smacking a little at her ass just to watch it move under his hand. “Just two more.”  The pressure was building in her gut and she shook harder in Steve’s arms, crying freely and so fucking close to the edge. If Bucky hit her again, she was going to come. Going to lose it and give up all control to the rolling heat curling her toes, let the waves drown her in silky pleasure until she couldn’t think straight. 

Swinging back, Bucky hit her again, the hardest swing yet, and she sobbed around Steve’s twitching dick. He moaned and flooded her mouth with bitter precome, hands tightening in her hair. 

“One more, honey.” 

“You’re being so good for us,” Steve huffed out between breaths, pulling out to smack his cock lazily against her lips. He groaned and jerked his hand up and down the base, biting into the inside of his lower lip, his eyes feral. 

“Gimma,” she whined, leaning forward to try to suck him again. Anything. She was floating, too high on pain and the heat radiating from her ass, needed his cock to force its way into her throat and ground her. She was shaking and trying to force her words out between breathless moans, the toy Bucky’d stuffed inside her buzzing away and all but making her eyes cross with how fucking good it felt. Steve, the fucking bastard, just grinned and leaned back from her lips, sharing a quick glance with Bucky before the brunette wound up and beat the paddle against her one last time. 

The smack of the polished wood vibrated the air around them, Evie’s mouth dropping open on a silent scream as she came hard between them. The bright tingle of the paddle burned all the way up her back, her head dropping to the bed so she could bite the sheets instead of screaming. Steve moved off the bed as she settled, her hips slowing down their desperate thrusts forward, the sensitivity of the toy making her cry. 

“Shh, honey, daddy’s here,” he cooed, grabbing at her hip and helping turn her over, his fingers easily finding the buttons on the outside of the toy and turning the vibration down. But not off. 

She blinked blearily up at him, hands above her head and thankfully not twisted- she could only imagine what had inspired Bucky to make the contraption holding her to the headboard. 

“Was that good?” Steve husked, settling between her legs and stooping down to kiss her. She just hummed against his mouth. “Good, that’s real good.” 

“You wanna watch your man’s get fucked?” Bucky asked brightly, popping up from behind Steve’s shoulder and grinning like he’d asked if they wanted to go water skiing. 

“Hossat gonna work?” she slurred, turning her head lazily and biting at Steve’s collarbone. He huffed out a quiet laugh and tugged playfully at her hair; she purred into his shoulder, floaty and high on pleasure

“You just stay right there and relax,” Bucky said, moving around the bed to dig through the bedside table for a silvery purple bottle of lube. “And watch me open your man up.” 

She just hummed a quiet moan of agreement and settled back in her bindings, curling her fingers around the rope to rub the silky rope. Bucky moved back behind Steve, nudging him forward and scooting Evie up the bed so there was room to kneel behind Steve. 

“Relax, Stevie,” he murmured, pressing his front to Steve’s back and pressing his lips to the pretty curve connecting Steve’s neck to his shoulder. “Gonna open you up real slow, sweet thing, promise.” 

Steve blew out a deep breath and knocked his head back onto Bucky’s shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed. 

“God,” he breathed as Bucky pushed a thick finger inside him. 

“Always open up so pretty for me, honey, so fucking good.” 

“Mmm, another, please?” 

“How can I say no when you ask so sweet, hmm?” 

“You’re not supposed to say anything,” Steve snarked, and Evie couldn’t help but smile. There was her guy. “You’re just supposed to finger me.” 

“So sassy.” Bucky clucked his tongue and reached forward to grip Steve’s chin, turning his head for a quick kiss. Steve’s cock visibly twitched, a bead of clear precome blurting out his slit. Bucky smirked and Steve broke their kiss off with a gasp. 

“Found it,” Bucky said smugly. Steve opened his mouth to reply, his eyes glinting indignantly before Bucky jabbed two fingers against his prostate and his eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Fuckin’ hate you,” he groaned, lolling his head to the side to kiss at Bucky’s neck, one hand sliding forward to tug at his own cock. 

“Nuh-uh,” Bucky said, smacking his hand away. “Play with the toy making your girl all floaty. Look at her, sweet girl, all worn out and lonely.” 

“Yeah.” Evie pouted and angled her hips up at little, just a little, so Steve had a perfect view of the pink outside of the toy still buzzing inside her. “So lonely, daddy.” 

“Gonna fucking die,” Steve murmured, reaching forward with shaking hands to rotate the toy inside her, making her hips rock up and her head knock back. Bucky kept a watchful eye on both of them, adding another finger and working Steve open, rubbing mercilessly at his prostate. 

“You need more prep, honey?” he asked, burying his face in Steve’s neck and covering it in biting kisses. Steve shook his head loosely from side to side, groaning a little and pressing the buzzing nub of the toy harder against Evie’s clit. “Why don’t you get inside your girl while I grab a condom?” 

“Please,” Evie whined, yanking hard against the ropes and bucking up. Anything to get him inside her. The rubbery silicone of the toy was nice and buzzy but she just wanted a dick inside her. 

“Okay, babydoll, okay. I’ve got you.” Steve shut the toy off and pulled it out, eyes darkening at the high whine she let out at the last ridge, and scooted forward on his knees to push inside. 

“Yes, god, Steve,” she moaned, throwing her head back and pulling on the ropes hard enough the metal pulley thing rattled against the headboard. “Fuck me, please,  _ god.”  _

“Sorry, just us.” Bucky grinned as he moved back behind Steve, putting a metal hand between his shoulder blades and making his stick his ass out; the snick of the cap of lube was quickly followed by a long, loud moan from Steve, his head falling forward and his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “I really don’t think god would really want any part of this.” 

Both of them ignored him, moaning and moving against each other. Evie was so full, pushed and teased and at least two orgasms in, and Steve was flushed all the way down past his nipples, his entire body shaking between his girl and his best friend. 

“G-god,” he whispered, falling forward a little and bracing himself on both hands, one on either side of Evie’s head. “Holy fuckin- gotta- ngh.” 

“You’re alright,” Bucky said softly, curling his right hand around Steve’s left shoulder. He rocked forward a little, pushing his cock deeper into Steve’s ass and Steve’s cock deeper inside Evie; the three of them moaned in unison, Bucky’s head falling onto Steve’s shoulder. 

“Fuck, more,” Evie begged, pushing up and trying to roll her hips to fuck herself further on Steve’s cock.  _ “More,  _ you two are so fucking hot- please-,” 

Bucky pulled back again, keeping his grip tight on Steve’s shoulder, before pushing forward and slowly building up a rhythm, his balls slapping against Steve’s ass with each thrust. Every push moved Steve deeper inside Evie, his cock dragging against her walls, and every pull back drew him back out until the three of them were fucking together, moving and moaning in tandem. 

And Steve couldn’t do anything but take it, trapped between his two favorite people in the entire world and taking pleasure from both sides. He was so overwhelmed, his whole body pink and shaking, sweat beading and dropping in rivulets down his chest. 

He was so fucking wrecked and it made Evie clench up to think about it. 

“God, Buck,” Steve whined when Bucky plucked at one rosy nipple. “Harder, yeah? Wanna fuck- put her through the headboard or somethin’.” 

Bucky snorted and kissed the back of Steve’s sweaty neck before picking up the pace, short, brutal thrusts of his hips that left Steve’s eyes rolling back and Evie jolting up the bed every time. 

“Steve,” she cried, yanking at her bindings, so floaty and high and good. “B-bucky, god, it’s so good.” 

“I’m gonna come,” Steve gasped. He moaned and squeezed his eyes shut, his breath stuttering out in time with Bucky’s thrusts. “I’m- you’re gonna make me come, both of you, so good.” 

“Come for me, Stevie,” Bucky grunted, a few dark strands of hair sticking to his face. He was practically railing the two of them through the headboard and was just  _ barely  _ breaking a sweat. “Just let go, honey, go ahead.” 

It only took a couple more thrusts before Steve was tensing, his abs tightening and spamsing while he filled the condom. He grit his teeth, thick wrinkles crinkling by his temples, all his teeth showing as he groaned out a low noise and wheezed after. 

If Evie hadn’t already came twice, the sight of him alone would have been enough to push her over the edge. 

“That’s it, Stevie, that’s it.” Bucky fucked him through the rest of his orgasm before he just kinda dropped onto Evie, burying his sweaty face in her neck. She giggled and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. 

Steve slurred something incoherent and Bucky just sighed. 

“You gonna throw that condom out, champ?” Bucky asked, grabbing the base of his cock and slowly pulling out Steve’s ass, blowing out a slow breath. 

Steve just grunted. Bucky shook his head and threw out his own condom; Evie couldn’t miss the fact he was still hard and the condom was empty. 

“Did you come?” she asked, voice a little scratchy. That was going to require some honey lemon tea later, if she wanted to have a voice from work tomorrow, but they could worry about that later. 

“Course I did,” Steve slurred without moving his head, and Evie dug her knee into his ribs. 

“Not you, babe. Bucky. Did you come?” 

He had the audacity to look sheepish, trying to turn his body so she couldn’t see his straining dick. 

“Untie me. I wanna suck your dick.” 

“Me too!” Steve cried, jolting upward and almost smashing Evie’s nose into her skull. 

Bucky looked like he was about to refuse but Steve was already untying Evie and then she was pulling him back closer to the bed, Steve scrambling to throw his condom away before hurrying back. They both dropped to their knees in front of Bucky, Evie sucking gleefully on the head while Steve nuzzled at his balls. 

“God, how’d I get so lucky?” Bucky said softly, both hands coming up to stroke through Steve and Evie’s hair. “Got two little sweet things on their knees for me.” Evie whined at the praise and Steve sank his teeth into Bucky’s hip. 

“Okay, one sweet thing and an asshole.” 

Steve hummed and Bucky used his grip on Steve’s hair to bring him back to his cock, pushing Steve down the entire length in one go. Evie licked sweetly at his balls and he moved Steve up and down his cock before inviting Evie back in, her and Steve sharing kisses over his shaft, their tongues sliding together. 

“Fuck, like that,” Bucky whispered, Evie’s tongue flicking quickly against the ridge where the head met his shaft, Steve’s lips sliding up and down the shaft. “Just like that.” His hands tightened in their hair, his thick thighs shaking just a little. He was holding himself tense, his body trembling just a link, a weak link in his armor. 

“You gonna come for us?” Evie asked, making sure to make her eyes wide and big as Bucky looked down at her. Steve took over sucking cock, his cheeks hollowed out as he bobbed on Bucky’s cock. “Please?” 

“Okay- fuck, yeah, okay.” He pulled Steve off and pressed them cheek to cheek, fisting his shiny left hand around his cock and jerking it quickly, his breath speeding up. Steve obediently opened his mouth, pretty pink tongue just barely poking out, and Evie followed suit. 

Huffing out staggered breaths, Bucky groaned and jerked a little before he went rigidly still, mouth dropping open into a sweet little ‘o’ as he came in thick globs over both their faces. 

Evie didn’t think she’d ever been happier to have someone’s come in her eyebrows.


	16. Haunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did she end up here, climbing out of Bucky's car in a skirt and tights and walking past Greek letters taller than she was to the house shaking with the bass of their music?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!!!!!!
> 
> This chapter features super sensitive content and deals with NON-CONSENT AND RAPE THEMES. Please, if this triggers you, please DO NOT READ this chapter.

Evie woke up the next morning sandwiched between the two of them, Tashka cozied into the back of her knees and watching her with bright, happy eyes; her skinny tail whapped against the bed when she shifted a little to rub at her eyes. She rolled away from Steve’s shoulder to find her nose bumping against the dark curls of Bucky’s chest hair, blinking confusedly for a second before trying to think of a way to go pee without waking either of them. 

She’d managed to scoot halfway down the bed, her face about level with Steve’s knee, before she heard an amused and sleepy snort from above her. 

“Going somewhere?” Bucky husked, his voice rough and sleep logged and the sexiest thing Evie’d ever heard. 

“Bathroom?” 

“Mmm.” He scrunched himself into a sitting position and stretched his arms above his head, the bones in his shoulders popping and cracking, before he slid gracefully out of the bed without disrupting Steve even a little bit. Evie fought not to glare at him. “First door to your right. Want tea?” 

“Sure,” she mumbled distractedly, sliding the rest of the way out of the bed and hurrying to the bathroom before she peed herself. 

While the toilet flushed with a surprising quietness, Evie just stared at herself in the mirror; her cheeks were somehow still flushed, bite marks and hicke’s dotting her neck and peeking out from under the tangle of her hair. Her eyes were bright and she looked… like she got properly fucked, is what she looked like. Huffing, she combed her fingers through her hair and tried to toss it into somewhat of a bun, scooping up Steve’s undershirt off the floor and rooting through Bucky’s top drawer for a pair of briefs that looked like they’d not fall off. 

Padding through the hall, she hugged her arms over her chest and blinked at the pictures Bucky had lining the walls- him with people that had to be his siblings, no way three people all had the same nose like that, him with Steve and their group of friends, all laughing and falling on each other. Him and Steve from their college days, Bucky’s left arm thrown comfortably around Steve’s skinny shoulders, the two of them smiling brightly at each other. 

Quiet clinking led her to the kitchen where Bucky was standing, humming under his breath and pouring steaming water into mugs. He’d thrown open the doors leading to the porch, a cool morning breeze blowing in while Tashka rolled happily in the dew, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Scooping both mugs up, Bucky nodded his head outside and led Evie out to the porch, collapsing into one of the reclining lawn chairs and kicking his feet up and passing her a mug. 

He looked like a sexy suburban dad with his blue and white pinstriped boxers and a grey robe that hung open just enough for his chest hair and one dusky nipple to peek out. She told him so and he just chuckled, scratching underneath the swell of his right pec and shaking his head. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping on their tea and exchanging shy glances every couple of minutes until Evie got sick of it and crawled into his chair, settling between his legs with her back to his chest, his whole big body encompassing her. 

“You have fun last night?” he rumbled, the vibrations of his chest making Evie hum. 

“Yeah. Did you?” 

“I think I jizzed out part of my soul,” he said flatly and Evie snorted into her mug. “So, yeah, good time.” 

She rolled her eyes and snuggled her forehead into the hollow of his throat, digging her phone out from under her thigh to check her texts. 

_ Jack Rollins:  _

_ Halloween party at mine tonight. I’ll cover you entry fee. There’s gonna be jungle juuuuice :D _

“That sounds fun,” Bucky said softly, very obviously reading over her shoulder. 

“He’s in the same fraternity as my ex.” 

“So?” 

“So that’s an… Issue.” 

“Just because he’s frat brothers with Brock- Steve told me, don’t look at me like that- doesn’t mean he’s a douche. I had plenty of brothers I wanted to beat the shit of. Didn’t make me a shitty person, too.” 

Chewing her lower lip, Evie just stared down at the text, her cursor blinking at her and daring her to make a decision. 

“I think you should go.” Bucky took a long drink of his tea and shifted them in the chair so he was sitting up a little straighter. “It’ll be fun.” 

 

And that’s how she ended up sliding out of Steve’s car with the promise to call him if she needed a ride, smoothing her skirt down and wishing she was anywhere but here. 

The music was already shaking the ground, orange and purple lights throwing shadows across the yard and fake cobwebs strung along the front porch and the oversized Greek letters sitting there. What was she even doing here? 

She’d made it up the first couple porch stairs before the front door opened, music and light and the faint skunky smell of weed pouring out. Jack stepped out of the dim lighting and grinned behind a set of plastic glow in the dark vampire fangs. 

“Evie!” he called, jumping down the stairs and yanking her into a one armed hug. “Good to shee ya.” 

“On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you right now?” she asked, laughing a little as he led her, stumbling, into the house. 

“About a sheven,” he slurred brightly, the teeth in his mouth glowing an opaque green as they stepped into the darkness. The main lights in the room had been shut off, leaving the rotating and spinning multicolored spotlights and strings of dangling colored beer-shaped lights to brighten everything. The music was loud and vibrating everything around them and the grind pit in the center of the room was already ridiculous. 

“Lemme get you a drink!” Jack hollared over the music, sliding his fingers through hers and tugging her through a swinging door into the kitchen. The music was a bit more manageable now and Jack immediately started chattering away as he mixed her a drink. 

“So glad you came,” he slurred, grinning brightly and ladling her a syrupy cup of jungle juice. She appreciated the college-ness of them making it in an oversized plastic tub. 

“I wasn’t going to,” she teased, taking a sip. She pulled a face at the assault at vodka and Jack laughed loudly, digging through the freezer and pulling out an unopened box of raspberry sherbert. 

“Here,” he chuckled, scooping some out with a spoon and dolloping it in her cup. Some of the liquid splashed onto her face in sticky drops, catching in her eyelashes and nose. Jack snorted. “Drivin’ the struggle bus today, Montgomery.” 

“Yeah, well.” She shrugged, blinking a little in surprise when Jack wiped at the tip of her nose with his thumb. He licked away the lingering stickiness, eyes trained on hers. That was- kinda hot but he was very much Not Steve Rogers, so she just smiled awkwardly and made her way back out to the living room. 

The party was- a lot, honestly. The music was loud and thumping, sweaty college kids in various forms of naked grinding and swaying their bodies together in what was basically an attempt to have sex with clothes on. Wrinkling her nose, Evie hid most of her face behind her plastic cup and searched the limited faces she was able to see, trying to look for someone, anyone, familiar. 

And thank fucking Christ on a stick for Peter Parker. 

“You’re my hero,” she gushed, hooking their arms together and moving desperately from the grind pile that was trying to draw them in. “And I love you.” 

Peter grinned slowly, his eyes glazed over and red-rimmed, obviously baked out of his mind. 

“And I love you.” He smacked a slobbery kiss on the side of her head, leaning more and more of his weight onto her until she laughed and smacked at him. 

“You got a hit?” 

“Do I have a hit,” he grumbled, sounding somewhat offended. He rolled his eyes and pulled a vape pen out of his pocket. “Bitch, you think I came to this Frat fuckery without some bud? You crazy.” 

“God, you really are my hero.” She took a long pull from the pen, eyes watering as he blew the smoke towards the foggy haze hanging near the ceiling. Part of it was probably evaporating sweat and jizz and she tried not to think about that. 

Eventually, Peter gave her enough hits and Jack refilled her drink enough to get her onto the dance floor, hips swaying in front of Peter, his long fingers gently wrapped around her waist to keep the Frat boys away. 

“Montgomery!” Jack called from the kitchen door. “Get over here. I got Jello shots, binch.” 

And god damn if she didn’t skip her way over there and take the tiny cup of blue gelatin. She frowned a little at the sprinkling of white powder sparkling on top of the Jello, but Jack waved her off. 

“It’s powdered sugar,” he said calmly. “We used cotton candy vodka and Evan decided to make them fancy. Well, most of them. We ran out towards the end.” He waggled his sugar-less shot in her direction. “I’m taking one for the team.” 

“Oh, you martyr,” she teased, touching her shot to his before slurping it down. It was kinda gross and very undignified, but all Jello shots were. 

So she had another. And another, until her head started swimming and her high was mixing thickly with her drunk. 

“I ‘m fuckin’ smashed,” she announced, dipping her hand into the open bag of Doritos Jack was offering. He nodded, shards of chip poking out of his mouth and smearing orange cheese dust over his chin. The chips sucked up all the moisture out of her mouth and she frowned when they settled roughly in her stomach. “Maybe- too smashed.” 

“You okay?” Jack’s eyebrows came together above his eyes and he smacked a hand against her forehead. “You feel kinda warm.” 

“It’s a million degrees in here,” Peter whined from his spot on the floor, shaking hands trying to disassemble an Oreo. 

“C’mon,” Jack said, dropping his Doritos to the floor and taking Evie’s hand. “Less getcha some air.” 

He led her up the wood stairs, well, dragged, kind of, her toes catching on every single step. A couple of his Frat brothers wooped for him but he just flipped them off. She thinks he did, anyway; his fingers and hands were starting to get blurry. 

“Here we gooo,” he sang, bumping a door open with his hip and tugging them both inside. It was simply decorated, a dark stained twin bed on wall with an equally dark and heavy looking desk across from it, a few posters on the walls, a little blue lamp on the bedside table. The bedding, though, looked soft and cool and Evie found herself sinking onto the edge before she really thought about it. Everything was sludgy and thick, like someone had boiled down all the sugar from the jungle juice and dipped time in it. She plopped her phone on Jack’s lap and laid down on the bed, her eyelids heavy. Smoking and taking shots was probably not her best idea, but she never felt like this when she was cross faded. Maybe this swimmy, yeah, but never this sleepy or sluggish. 

“Can you call Steve?” she whispered, stretching her legs out and poking at Jack’s thigh with her shoe. “Wanna go home.” 

“But we’re having so much fun.” He pouted and smoothed some of her hair back from her sweaty face. “Stay with me a little longer.” 

“Jaaack.” 

“You always leave me for your boyfriend,” he grumbled. “And I only ever see you at work anymore. Don’t ya like me, Eves?” 

“Course I do,” she slurred, lifting her arms above her head and stretching, wiggling a little as she did so. The slurry head of her cross-face made her miss the way Jack’s dark eyes latched onto the strip of bare skin exposed by her shirt riding up. “But I luh Steve.” 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to try to love on you.” His hand shifted down from her hairline to her cheek, thumb brushing against the bright red hue riding high on her cheekbones. “Can I try now?” 

“What?” She blinked at him blearily, rolling her head away from his touch. “Jack, I wanna go hoome.” 

“But-,” 

“Knock, knock.” One of Jack’s bros swung the door open and promptly stopped at the threshold. When had Jack closed the door? “Oh. Uh, you good?” 

Jack huffed and stood, moving to the door and using his body to block most of the doorway. Him and his friend murmured and whispered to each other, folding their arms over their chests and tossing Evie curious, weird looks every couple of seconds. They looked like bros, matching tight jeans and backwards, flat billed hat and Evie snorted to herself, rolling a little in the bed. 

This was dumb, her head hurt, and Jack would text Steve if she fell asleep. Nuzzling her head into the pillow, she let the Hat Bros chat and drifted off. 

………………………………….

Only to wake up (mostly) to hot lips on her forehead. She didn’t open her eyes but smiled, puckering her lips for a kiss. 

“Take me home, Steve, wanna cuddle Dodger,” she murmured, looping her arms around his neck. She blinked a couple times, her eyes focusing enough to make out those big shoulders, his hulking frame bent over hers on the bed. “Please, daddy?” 

He didn’t answer, but she felt the smile on her lips as he leaned in for another kiss. 

………………………………….

Except, it couldn’t have been Steve. Evie groaned and rubbed at her forehead, sitting up and pausing when she realized she wasn’t in Steve’s massive cloud of a bed. She was still in the twin at Jack’s, the door shut but the party downstairs loud enough to still be relevant. 

“The fuck,” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands and bringing her knees up. Must have been a dream, then, and Steve was probably on his way. She let out a long ‘uuuugh’ noise and rubbed harder at her eyes, feeling like every drop of moisture in her body had been drawn out. She was rocking a serious case of cottonmouth, her lips were sore and dry and needed the Chapstick she’d left in Bucky’s car, and her body just- it just hurt. 

Okay, first, she needed her phone. Phone meant seeing how far out Steve was. Steve meant home and home meant gentle cuddles and some water. Lowering her hands, she blew out a slow breath and reopened her eyes, wincing at little and then freezing. 

Her tights were ripped. Not anything concerning, considering she’d gotten them from the local dollar store, but they hadn’t been ripped when she got up here. Right? And she couldn’t have torn them  _ sleeping.  _ Especially not like this, from the crotch all the way up to her waist, where she could feel the ripped nylon under her skirt. 

Ripped nylon and a definite lack of panties. 

Stomach dropping through the floor, she let her legs drop open and slid back up the bed towards the headboard, eyes widening at the- the mess staining the navy sheets. That was, had to be, blood. Blood and what looked white and snotty and very much like drying come. She could feel it flaking on the inside of her thighs. 

_ Oh god oh no oh god oh god oh god _

Her shredded panties were on the floor, next to her phone and three empty condom wrappers. Bile rose hot in her throat and it took three tries to unlock her phone and two more times to reach Nat’s contact. 

“Hello?” 

“N-Nat-,” 

“Evie, hey. You okay? You sound like you’re crying.” 

So maybe all the moisture hadn’t been zapped out of her, if her face was dribbling with tears. 

“I need you to come get me.” 

“Now?” 

“Now.” 

“Um, okay. Are you okay? Where are you?” 

“Please,” she whispered, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw, fighting for some control over her shaking body. She was starting to panic, her body tightening and trembling and starting to go into shock. “I’m at Zeta’s.” 

“Why the fuck are you there?” 

“It- please, Nat. Please.” 

Nat paused for a minute and Evie heard the signature roar of Clint’s mini van in the background. They were coming. They were going to get her. 

“Okay, buddy. I’ll be there in like 20.” 

“Hurry.” 

“Okay, honey, okay. We’ll see you soon.” 

Evie hung up and immediately called Peter, who stumbled up the stairs, took one look at the underwear on the floor and immediately helped her take off the tights and fix her skirt. He yanked his flannel off and wrapped her around her shoulders, double checking it was long enough to cover her entire backside, and helped her limp down the stairs. 

She hissed with every step, sore and weak and feeling like everything from her knees to her waist was on fire. By the time Peter helped her outside and ran back in for his backpack, making in back in record time and reaching for her hand until she flinched, Nat was pulling up on the curb. 

Peter led her to the car, hands hovering over her worriedly, and opened the door. Nat turned in the drivers seat to look at them, a sarcastic comment ready on her lips before she caught the ghostly white of Evie’s skin, the way her whole body shook as she all but crawled into the car. 

“What the fuck happened?” she demanded. Evie looked down at her hands, Peter climbing in next to her and slamming the door. “Evie!” 

“Let’s just go home,” she whispered, barely audible over the drum of the radio. “Please.” 

“I’m not moving until you tell me why the fuck you look like you got thrown down a flight of stairs.” 

_ “Please.”  _ Her voice was no loud but more desperate, tears flooding down her chest and dropping heavily onto her skirt. “Please, I just want to go.” 

“Nat,” Peter said, giving her a strong look and shaking his head just a little. “We gotta go.” 

The car fell eerily silent as Nat drove them away, Clint turning in his seat to frown at Evie. He reached out to lay a hand on her bare knee and stopped at the dotting of five purple-green bruises on the inside of the joint, at the way she physically recoiled from him. He looked from her to Peter, non-verbally asking the brunette what the fuck was going on. 

If Evie had been looking, she would have seen Peter type out a word on his phones notes app, handing the phone to Clint who paled and showed Nat, who’s foot dropped heavier on the gas pedal. 

_ Hospital _

……………………………………..

“Just take me home. Please, no, I just want to go home.” Evie was begging and fighting against them, crying hard and fighting not to sob. She just wanted to go home and shower. Rinse everything off her- the blood and come she could feel on her thighs, on her vagina, inside her, the ghost feeling of someone else’s hands grabbing at her- and go to sleep. 

She’d be fine, after a shower and some sleep. 

“Evie.” Nat put her knees on the inside of the open van door and held her hands out, pleading. “Let someone look you over. Just for a minute. And then we can go home and you can snuggle Diana. Okay? Please, just let us help you.” 

_ “I don’t want to! Please!”  _

“We need to call Steve,” Clint said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Him and Peter were standing a foot or two behind Nat, watching Evie with worried, pale faces but knowing better than to crowd her. “Nat, c’mon, we’re- fuck, we’re way out of our element. We need to call Steve.” Desperation clouded his voice at the end and he hissed out a tight breath, reaching up to grip his sandy blonde hair in two tight fistfuls. 

“Don’t call Steve,” Evie cried, gasping and falling forward to grab at Nat’s shaking hands. “Pl- please. I’ll go inside. I’ll go inside. Just don’t call Steve. Please don’t call Steve. Don’t call Steve.” She was breathing hard, almost wheezing, sobbing and shaking and so incredibly hurt and scattered and traumatized. 

“Alright, sweetie, okay. We’re not gonna call Steve. It’s alright. Let’s get you inside, yeah? Come on.” 

Using Evie’s grip on her hands, Nat helped her friend stand and shuffled into the hospital with her, Peter and Clint following close behind. She helped Evie into one of the mint green leather chairs in the ER lobby before going to talk to the receptionist, who handed over a clipboard of insurance and injury papers with a worried look. Nat even went as far as filling the forms out for Evie, looking up and asking short, easy to answer questions that Evie answered in a dull, flat voice, her eyes staring unseeingly at the floor. 

It took about a half over before a kind looking woman came out to get them, pushing a wheelchair and politely asking Evie if it was alright to touch her. Evie just slowly shrugged a shoulder. 

She didn’t let the boys come back, leaving them with the reassurance that she’d send someone for them once Evie got a room, and then the three of them disappeared into the hospital. 

Evie got a room not long after. Thankfully, it was just her, the modest curtain pulled in the center of the room to hide the other bed. The four of them sat in silence before Peter broke and excused himself to go for a smoke. Nat and Clint looked between each other, nervous and confused. They wanted to interrogate her, know what happened and with who. Wanted to know how to help. Wanted to know how to fix it. But the knew none of that would help. Evie had been basically non-verbal since the nurse had wheeled her to her examination, no longer crying or shaking but just staring deadly forward. 

Somehow, the staring was worse. 

………………………………………….

“Hey, Sarah, can you help me with something?” Emily, their newest nurse, leaned her arms on the nurses station, looking hesitant in her powder blue scrubs. 

“What’s that?” 

“I- the new patient in 4E needs a rape kit.” 

Sarah’s heart broke a little and she sighed, shuffling her current patient’s paperwork back into their file and standing. 

“I’ll help you, honey. Why don’t you go and fill her in on the process and I’ll go grab everything.” 

Emily nodded, her ginger curls bouncing, before hurrying to 4E to tell her poor patient what the rape kit would entail. They were always messy, always invasive and uncomfortable. She’d already been so violated and now got to have two strange women poking around between her legs with cold metal tools and taking samples. 

Setting everything on a small metal tray, Sarah made her way to 4E and offered the room a polite smile as she wheeled in. Oh, these were  _ kids _ , kids no older than their mid-twenties, and they were here, in a hospital, on a weekend. Not with a drinking related injury, like a broken leg from falling off a counter top or alcohol poisoning, but with a potential rape. 

Turning her eyes to the woman in the bed, Sarah froze where she was. The woman was still looking at Emily, who was still gently talking and explaining, and she looked more tired and pale than the last time Sarah had seen her, but there was no mistaking that hair or the rose tattoo peeking out of her hospital gown. 

Sarah glanced at the chart and had to excuse herself, leaning against the wall outside the room and pressing a hand tight to her mouth, tears prickling at her eyes. 

_ Evelynn Grace Montgomery. Evie.  _

_ Steve’s Evie. _


	17. Threats

Everything hurt. 

Despite the IV dripping fluids into her veins, Evie’s dehydration still raged on. Her body was still fighting to work out the rest of the date rape drugs and it felt like she’d taken a jack hammer to the vagina. 

Which, realistically, wasn’t too far from the truth. 

Her eyes were tight and tired even though she’d slept for most of the past ten hours; the bruises darkening her thighs and calves were black and burnt yellow and hurt to even look at. Nurses had been flittering to and out of her room, taking the last of the necessary samples with guilty, sympathetic looks. 

“Did you know,” Evie said slowly, blinking lazily at the white hospital ceiling. Nat raised an eyebrow for her to continue. “ Sixty seven percent of rape kits go untested in New York?” 

“Why would you even Google that, Eves?” 

“Needed it for a paper,” she grumbled, turning her face towards the window. 

“Still not helpful for the situation.” 

Evie shrugged one shoulder and briefly considered if flinging herself out her second story window would kill her, or if it would just hurt a lot. The door to her room clicked open and someone softly cleared their throat. Evie didn’t even turn her head- another nurse, another test. 

“I’ve been trying to avoid this, but I couldn’t switch your case with someone else with the time constraints.” 

_ Of fucking course Sarah Rogers would be her nurse. Why wouldn’t that be the case?  _

“Does Steve know?” Evie’s voice sounded dead and dull to her own ears and she could only imagine how it sounded to everyone else. 

“That’s the great thing about doctor patient confidentiality,” Sarah said, sliding into one of the green and yellow upholstered hospital chairs. “Even if I wanted to tell him, I couldn’t.” 

Nodding, Evie shifted on her bed and tugged her knees up to her chest, the thin hospital blanket falling over her legs to nothing private was on display. 

“But we’re not here to talk about Steven,” Sarah said, laying a clipboard over her knees and clicking her pen. “We’re gonna fill out some discharge papers so you can get home, okay? I’m a firm believer of the healing powers of being in your own space, in your own room and your own shower, so my only goal right now is to make sure we get you there as soon as possible. Sound good?” 

Evie nodded and Nat reached over to squeeze her hand. 

 

Forty five minutes later, Evie was bundled in a pair of leggings and one of Steve’s oversized Shield hoodies- Nat had snagged it off her bed in her one trip home- and shuffling through the hospital to Clint’s van. Sarah, bless her, walked them out and pulled Evie into a tight hug once they got to the parking lot. 

“If you need anything, or have any sort of issues, don’t hesitate to call me.” She stepped back, a hand twitching to smooth Evie’s hair down before she thought better of it and wrapped her arms around herself. It was a little cold to be out in just her lilac scrubs and Evie felt bad. “I put my cell phone and my home phone numbers on a little card in your papers. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Of course I don’t,” Evie whispered, oddly touched. 

“Don’t be a stranger, hmm? You’re always welcome to call or just stop in and visit. With or without Steven.” 

“Th- thank you. For everything.” 

Sarah pulled her into another hug and made sure they got into the car with no hiccups before retreating into the hospital. 

Evie stared out the window the entire way home, tears streaming down her cheeks with Clint’s hand held tightly in hers. 

……….

“Steve?” Evie swallowed hard and tugged the blankets up to her chin, wanting so bad to smile at how cute Steve looked with a foamy mouth of toothpaste but couldn’t bring herself to. “Can we talk?” 

His eyebrows knitted together in the middle of his forehead and he nodded, spitting into the sink and rinsing out his mouth before coming to bed, clad in only his worn pajama pants, glasses, and a pair of old-man looking white ankle socks. 

“You alright?” 

Deep in her soul, Evie knew this wasn’t going to end well. Steve was going to freak out and demand she fill out a police report, going full Adult and probably asking her to recount details she didn’t even want to think about as they came back to her in flickers and flashes. But she couldn’t hide the fact  _ something  _ had happened- that her thighs were bruised to hell, the healing bite marks on her neck and collarbones, the fingerprint shaped marks on her hips and breasts. 

“Mostly? Um, okay.” Deep breaths, Eves. “So something happened, at the party. It’s not- I mean, it was pretty much my own fault. I knew better and I shoulda known they wouldn’t put powdered sugar on a fucking Jello shot but I- I didn’t think. Um.” 

Steve was just looking more confused and worried the more she babbled. Huffing out a deep breath, Evie kicked off the blankets and tugged down her sleep shorts so he could see the bruises. She rolled her shirt up, too, leaving it just under her breasts and decidedly avoiding Steve’s gaze as he sucked in a sharp breath. 

He held out a shaking hand like he was going to touch her and she automatically flinched. 

“Shit,” he whispered, his voice breaking. He looked so confused and lost and it was breaking Evie’s heart. She shouldn’t have showed him this- should have just told him, stammered it out and not let him look at her until there no more marks from the frat house. “Wh- who did this to you?” 

“I’m not really sure,” she said slowly. “I, uh, there were, like, three or four condoms on the floor when I woke up. I have an idea. But I can’t- I don’t know. For sure.” 

Steve’s eyes filled with tears and Evie couldn’t look at him anymore, turning her face down to the comforter and pulling it back up so she was covered. 

“Okay.” Steve sniffled and ran the back of his hand under his nose. “Okay. I- okay. What do you want to do?” Slowly, making sure his movements weren’t hurried and could be tracked easily, he scooped Evie’s hands in his, gently running his thumbs across the back of her hand. 

“What?” 

“What do you want to do?” he repeated, tears still thick in his voice. “Do- do you want to file a police report? Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Wh- what do you need from me? I’ll do anything for you, you know that, but I don’t know how to handle this, Eves. I need you to take control, okay? You’re in charge. Ball’s in your court. What do you want to do from here?” 

That- wasn’t at all what she expected from him. How was he so perfect? How did he know that’s exactly what she needed? Nat and Clint had been so helpful but they were in charge; Evie knew they were helping and doing what they needed to do, what was best, but being told what to do and being forced into something was the absolute last thing she needed right now. 

“Hold me?” she asked, choking back tears. They dribbled down her cheeks before she even gave them permission and Steve was pulling her close, gently, so gently, and burying his face in her hair. They laid there together, tangled in each other and the blankets, and Evie just cried. She cried over losing her autonomy. She cried out the guilt and self-hate bubbling below her skin. She cried out the anger. 

Steve waited until she was cried out to speak. 

“How does Thai food sound?” he asked, so wildly off topic. He’d already brushed his teeth and they were already in bed? “I’m gonna order from that place you like and we can sit here and snuggle for as long as you want.” 

That sounded so nice, even if they were already ready for bed. She nodded and Steve reached for his phone on the bedside table, pausing for only a second to bundle the blankets over Evie’s shoulders. 

“I have some salve that helps with bruises,” he said as he clicked through his phone to order their food. “And I know a guy in the NYPD that can help you file a report, if that’s what you want.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about reporting it,” she said slowly as Steve disappeared to the bathroom to grab the salve. “It- I just want it to go away.” 

“I can only imagine, honey.” Steve deposited the dull orange tub into her hands and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “Think about it, though?”

She handed the tub back with the promise she would at least give it serious thought and then asked, timidly, if he’d rub the salve on. 

“I need, just, good touches,” she whispered, hugging the blanket tighter around herself and blinking back a weak trickle of tears. Heartbreak broke across Steve’s face and he nodded, gently urging her to lean back so he could better rub at the bruises on the inside of her thighs. 

True to Steve’s word, they laid easily in bed, slurping noodles out of white cardboard boxes and watching bad reality Tv until Steve passed out, his box of noodles still clutched in his hand. Evie couldn’t help but smile a little at him, at the barely there glints of silver peppering his temples, at the stress lines around his eyes that smoothed out as he slept. She moved the food to the kitchen, pushing it far enough back on the counter that the dogs wouldn’t get to it, and checked her phone as she crawled back into bed, planning on texting her roommates to let them know she was staying with Steve. 

And she had a series of picture messages from an unknown number. 

Frowning, she clicked the threat open and promptly had to swallow the bile rising in her throat. 

They were of her. They were  _ all  _ of her, all thirteen pictures and a twelve minute video at the end. All of her lying somewhat motionless in Jack’s checkered bedding in various states of undress and a multitude of positions. Her stomach rolled over and she had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from gagging. 

Brock. Jack. Brock again, leering a grin at the camera as he forced his dick down her throat. Another guy Evie couldn’t recognize with a backwards hat blazing his Greek letters. 

Three little grey dots popped up at the end of the threat and Evie waited, barely even daring to breathe as the newest message came through.

 

_ Nark to the cops & these go on your boyfriend’s website. We’re thinking front page, replace all those comic graphics with the owner’s girl getting spit roasted by guys half his age.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> I hate myself and my characters????

**Author's Note:**

> Just so everyone knows, this is what I was thinking Steve looked like. 
> 
> https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRXwKks92Jq75lNpk6lKncFhVnUst4FYDSay3-HJ9E9t4w78rBAgQ


End file.
